Blinding
by randompandemic
Summary: She had always known it would be him. That she would die by his hand. That eventually he would find her, no matter how far or how fast she ran... Deucalion/Mystery Girl; M for inevitable violence and (in later chapters) some sexy-time for a change, because we all want Deucalion to take his damn shirt off, don't we :D
1. Prologue: Tattoo

_**Tattoo**_

"Beautiful... but defiant, aren't you?"

His voice was soft, in it no sign of anger, aggression. Nothing. There was nothing in his voice and it broke her heart to hear it. That he would be so indifferent to her. How much it had changed him. Waldorf's words rang in her ears, so long ago. He had told her to run, run for her life, for if Deucalion found her, he'd kill her. And if, by some miracle, he'd eventually get his sanity back and he'd realize he had killed her, the one person he never wanted to hurt, it would destroy him. Forever.

And here they were. Six years of running later. She wished he could see her eyes. Just once. Wished he could see in them that even after all this time, he was still all she wanted. Despite all the fear, despite the fact that she wanted to hate him, should hate him, she couldn't. She wished he could see that her love for him had always been stronger than all that, and had always made her weaker.

"Because I know something. I know you are afraid of him."

He smirked.

"Of a teenage boy?"

Amusement in his voice. What could one like him possibly have to be afraid of? Who could possibly overpower one like him? Of course she knew. She had always known. She had always seen the greatness in him, long before he had lashed out this way. He had been so much more then. But he had fallen. Ever so often the difference between genius and madness is just in one decision. He had chosen madness, Scott McCall would chose genius.

"Of the man he will become."

He smiled and caressed her cheek. The touch terrified her because it was all she longed for but she knew it might well be the last time. What had happened to his promise? That she was his and that he would always protect what was his? That he would never hurt her, never let anyone harm her? Empty words. Empty, beautiful words she had loved to hear, even though something inside her had always known they were lies...

"I am aware of a certain potential threat. But then someone once taught me a very smart way to eliminate a threat: Get someone else to do it for you."

His voice was hollow. That beast before her, he was not the man she had fallen in love with when she had been just a girl. The man she would have gladly gone to war for, the man she had killed for. He was gone. And it hit her.

"Derek..." she wasn't even aware she said it out loud. But of course. _Of course_ it had to be Derek. Of course he would go for Talia's son. It always came down to them, didn't it? Deucalion and Talia.

She had trouble breathing against the pain from the deep claw marks on her side, she tasted blood in her mouth where Kali had slapped her, but she managed to raise her hand to touch his cheek. He leaned his head just a little, just enough for his lips to brush over the small tattoo on her wrist and it felt like it had so long ago. Her beautiful Blind King who didn't see, but only saw her.

"I always said… you'd be the only one I'd allow to kill me," she whispered. He smiled. That made it easier. She felt his claws on her skin, then saw him lash out. She closed her eyes, braced for the inevitable.

They say when you die, your whole life flashes before your eyes. That is not quite true. She didn't see her whole life. Not the dull part of her human existence. Only that short, beautiful time she had spent _with_ him, followed by the long terrible years running _from_ him. Her memories were full of him, always him. The only one worth remembering. His smile, the way he had made her feel beautiful without even having to look at her, the first time he had kissed her – even just her forehead – and the last time he had kissed her lips. She remembered how he would kiss her goodnight, caressing her hair, how he would whisper with his lips brushing her ear. She heard it so clear now.

"Goodnight, my Queen."

And then everything was dark.

* * *

**Author note:**

_I know, I know I _should_ be writing my OUAT fic's! I feel horrible about it! But I am completely lacking a Captain Hook muse at the moment and I blame Teen Wolf for that! And the fact that there are almost no Deucalion centric fanfic's around to satisfy my need for this man right now. So I am getting this out of my system. This fic is about Deucalion's original pack, before he killed them all and became, you know, the Demon Wolf. I am starting with it eight years before the events of season 3 and ending (as seen above) with the episode Tattoo. There are a few headcanon's I need to clarify before we start:_

_There is such a thing as moonchildren – described later on as humans born with 'wolf' in their blood, humans that should have actually been born as wolves. It will be revealed that Scott is a moonchild, Isaac might be one too, I am not sure yet. And in my universe, Deucalion's original pack were almost all moonchildren, because they are a stronger power source than ordinary Betas (which will explain why he was a) a more powerful Alpha than others and b) why he will later be stronger than the other Alphas in the Alpha pack). The term Talia Hale will use for an Alpha like Deucalion is 'Superior' which indicates that he may not be the first like that..._

_Lyka is not _actually_ an entirely original character, she is the unnamed girl that saved Isaac in Tattoo and is supposedly (or not?) killed by Deucalion afterwards – Jeff has hinted that we never saw a body so she might be alive, who knows... The fact Deucalion called her 'beautiful but defiant' made me very, very interested (aka he has a talent of making me ship him with people really, really hard just the second before he kills them off – see Ennis!). Did he know her before? And since we never actually learned if she is a wolf or not (her wounds didn't heal, but they were wounds inflicted by Alpha's and she and Isaac were up and around at around the same time, so…) I took the freedom to make her a wolf. I named her Lyka as a variation of the Greek word for wolf and it's basically a fake anagram for Kali and I wanted these two to be in a very strong contrasting role in Deucalion's life, making it very significant that Kali did the finishing blow before Deucalion got there in tattoo. You will see more on that later. _

_I briefly considered her to be Alicia, Boyd's sister, but changed my mind eventually in favour of another theory involving Scott instead. Lyka is Scott's cousin twice removed or something ^^ on daddy's side, so I came up with one thing or the other about the McCall family, going along with the line that Scott is apparently a very special werewolf. (I am simply assuming McCall was his father's name, I couldn't recall if Melissa kept her maiden name and honestly didn't feel like going back to check...)_

_Concerning the Argent family and Duke's history with them: In my fic, Deucalion as he is now did _not_ bite Alexander Argent, but in a way he still did, you will see ;) Gerard was the one who blinded Duke, roughly one month prior to the events in this fic, so it's relatively recent and I'll touch on that._

_Now I almost have a note as long as the prologue. Sorry about that._


	2. Encounter

**Author's note:**

_Wow! Many readers in two days (no reviews though… guys? Hello? Okay, I get it, it was just a prologue, can't really say if you like it or not yet. But there's more coming so maybe you will… leave a review or two? Thanks!)._

_After watching Visionary yesterday, I have thrown a lot of my original concepts over board. Mainly Talia, because she is just so badass in the show that I will change her role in the fic tremendously, making her a lot more important than initially planned. Also, the episode has given me the opportunity to include Ennis and Kali at an earlier stage :D (sorry lovers of the twins, I do not really like the twins, so they will probably… not really feature here to greatly…)._

_My original Deucalion idea however will not have to change too much because he was actually exactly as tragic a character as I imagined. So, basically this fanfic happens after the events of Visionary (if you haven't seen it, major spoiler alert!) with one major difference: Deucalion's descent into madness and 'demon wolf' will not happen immediately after being blinded, there will be several weeks, perhaps months, for Marco to slowly begin questioning Deucalion's leadership and smell his chance to take over until he eventually attacks. So it's a little bit AU._

_Also, the events concerning Derek and Paige did not happen in this way in my fic. I don't believe Peter's story because that dude lies as soon as he opens his mouth (and I love him for it :D nothing better than a good old fashioned traitor) and I don't really believe what we saw actually happened that way. I have my own little theory and it might feature in this fic, so watch out ^^ _

* * *

_**Encounter**_

The Library was silent. All she heard was pen, scratching on paper, the occasional cough, one or two muffled conversations quickly stopped by the librarian.

Lyka McCall sat in one of the cozy corners, legs pulled up into the chair, a thick book before her, pen tucked behind her ear, her long dark hair put up in a messy bun. She wasn't per se taking notes ('_I am taking mental notes!_') but then again, she wasn't really reading either. She was more or less absent-mindedly staring at the pages of the historical textbook.

Olivia, her best friend, sat next to her practically buried in books on fiscal politics or something equally confusing. She looked like she was well prepared to spend all night here. Only thing missing was a sleeping bag.

The two girls were freshmen. Well, freshwomen. Lyka was majoring in history, Liv in… something business related ('_Economics and Mathematics. I do Economics and Mathematics dammit, it's not that hard to remember._'), Lyka never really understood it. The blonde was the one with the mathematical, abstract brain, Lyka on the contrary was more proficient in languages, art, music. Luckily, that meant they never competed for the same things, so their friendship had worked very well since second grade. The two had exceeded in their classes at school and had made it into Boston University first try. They were proud of it and rightfully so. Lyka was on a scholarship and was the only one of her siblings to make it to University, Liv was financed by daddy, who was very good with the... business related things his daughter now studied. Two girls that could hardly be any more different, but friends for as long as they could remember.

At some point in time, Liv stretched and yawned.

"I need a smoke…" she declared, put her books and notes down and got to her feet.

"I think I'll get a coffee, want one, too?" Lyka inquired. She got up and had to jump a little, one leg had inconveniently decide to take a premature nap. Her friend shook her head.

"But I will meet you at the coffee corner in… seven and a half minutes," she declared after checking her watch quickly. They parted. Liv heading outside to light a cigarette, Lyka heading to said coffee corner in the public area of the library.

She ordered and while she waited she looked around. There were many students here of course but out here, there were also visitors from outside. And one struck her in particular. Sitting at a table, sipping his cup while his hands were carefully wandering over blank pages. No, not blank. Braille. She saw a simple cane leaning against the chair he sat on and his eyes were hidden behind dark glasses. He was reading slow, sometimes going back, seemed to struggle. She could tell he wasn't born blind, probably hadn't been blind long. Moments like this made her realise how incredibly lucky they all were for not having something happen to them that handicapped them in such a way. It made her shiver.

She took her coffee and was on her way to sit outside in the sun, when someone rushed by the blind man and knocked over his cane. He raised his head, put down the book and coffee and leaned down to search for his cane. In the completely wrong direction. She could almost feel in the air how it annoyed and frustrated him. And the idiot that had knocked over the cane in the first place was nowhere to be seen! She put down her coffee and rushed over.

"Here, wait," she said softly as she picked up the cane. The man stayed still until she placed the cane in his hands, noticing his long, elegant fingers. She looked up at his face. Up close, he was really handsome. She guessed he had to be somewhere in his mid-thirties, with ash blond hair, a sharp nose, strong jaw and softly curved lips he pulled up in a smile now.

"Thank you. The kindness of strangers," he said. His voice was deep, calm, soothing like velvet and the British accent helped, too. The sort of voice that could recite the phone directory and no one would mind.

"Well, for every kind stranger there is one idiot who messes things up in the first place," she said with a shrug. Had the idiot been nice enough to apologise and put the cane back where it belonged, she wouldn't have had the opportunity to be a kind stranger. He laughed and as if he heard her thoughts he said that out loud..

"True. But tell you what: If it weren't for these idiots messing up, we'd never get the opportunity to show who we really are."

"Also true," she confirmed.

"I… would offer you a chair… but I'd have to guess where it is, so instead of pointing: Please, sit."

She laughed.

"I'll… um…" she looked over at her empty table, then back at the blind stranger, then to the door where Liv would probably appear soon. But then she shrugged. "Ah, what the hell? I'll just get my coffee, just a moment."

He smiled and she smiled back – remembering a moment later that he couldn't see it anyways and felt silly for it. She rushed over to her table, took her coffee and then returned, pulled herself a chair and sat down with him. In the meantime, he had put a mark in his book and closed it, his blind gaze seemed to follow the sound she made.

"So… what are you reading?" she inquired trying to make out a title on the book. It was of course written in Braille, but underneath also in visible text – yet the way the book was lying, it was upside down. "Homer's Iliad?"

"Indeed, yes. Ancient myths fascinate me," he admitted.

"Hey, no need to sound so guilty. I'm a first year History Major, I am all over this one."

"Really? A wonderful thing to study, History."

"Tell that to my parents. They hate it."

"How so?"

"Well, since I am the only one who made it to University, they say I should have studied something that will at least earn me a living later," she replied with a sigh.

"Ah… yes… that might of course be a bit of a problem these days. But if this is what you want to do, they have no right to stop you. After all, as you pointed out, _you_ made it into University."

She smiled. It was nice to hear that for a change.

"Oh, I'm Lyka, by the way."

"Lyka? Is that… a variation of Lykos? The Wolf?" he inquired.

"It is. I know, it's a weird name. My dad really likes wolves…"

"I think it's a lovely name."

He smiled and held out a hand that she could take. "I'm Deucalion."

She hesitated a moment after he said his name, was quite sure he was messing with her but then she took his hand anyways. His fingers were warm, his handshake confident and strong.

"The son of Prometheus."

"Actually my father's name was Alexander," he admitted with a laugh. She laughed as well. "But dare I say you're the first one to know the names origin immediately. There is nothing more enjoyable than the company of an intelligent woman."

"Thanks, that's a first as well…"

Intelligent gone overboard. Great! Was one compliment really all it took?! She felt the heat shoot into her cheeks and was quite sure she had blushed a very new shade of red, despite sounding confident when she replied. Damn him and his voice. Good thing he couldn't see her!

But he didn't have to. He still held her hand, could feel her pulse stumble, could even feel how she got significantly warmer and it made him smile a little.

"A compliment well deserved, you shouldn't feel embarrassed."

She raised a brow into a sharp ark.

"Are you actually blind? Or are you messing with me?" she asked and waved her free hand in front of his eyes. No reaction but a laugh.

"I _am_ blind. But some things, you don't have to see. Nature often betrays us," he explained and turned her hand, his thumb brushing over her pulse gently and it caused goose bumps. With his other hand, as if to prove a point, he took off his sunglasses. She gasped a little. Around his eyes she could see scar tissue, relatively well healed but still noticeable. His pale blue eyes were unfocused, silvered, and there was redness around the iris. She didn't want to imagine what must have happened, it looked incredibly painful and the thought of something happening to eyes always freaked her out tremendously. "Looks gruesome, I know."

"It… kinda does…" she admitted. What was the point in sugar coating it? He'd never see it, but he had a right to know what it looked like. "I… would it be rude to ask… what happened?" she inquired shyly. He smiled.

"A foolish accident, I am afraid. Nothing… spectacular," he lied. While searching for the word he tried to not think about it too much, but it wasn't easy. It wasn't easy when the last thing you ever saw was an old hunter standing above you with a demonic grin on his face and two flash arrows spiked with wolfsbane in his hands. It wasn't easy to forget a ridiculously bad pun about shortsightedness just before he slammed the arrows into his eye sockets. It wasn't easy to forget this pain, the smell of burning flesh, the fire, the blood. And the darkness, that terrible darkness he couldn't escape ever since. No, none of this was easy.

"Too bad. I was hoping for daredevil superhero material."

He laughed and shook his head, finally let go of her hand and she almost wanted to protest. He put his glasses back on. "So… you see nothing? Or are there blurs? I am sorry if I'm nosy, I just… don't know anyone else who's…"

"I see nothing. But I am getting used to it. Darkness has its perks," he replied with a shrug. Then he emptied his coffee. "Do you mind telling me what time it is?"

"Um… half past three."

"Great. Would you mind helping me out of the building, there should be a car waiting for me…" he asked and rose to his feet. She jumped up. He was tall, taller than she imagined. And broad-shouldered, with strong arms. Really, the only thing that made him seem vulnerable was the blindness. If he were not blind, he'd actually be intimidating.

"Sure. Just… tell me what to do?"

"If I could just hold on to your arm or your shoulder…"

He held out his hand. She hesitated a moment, then took his hand, placed it on her right shoulder, where he held on firmly. She felt his thumb brush over her skin and it made her shiver a little. She felt silly for it, but she couldn't help it. Like that, they left the coffee corner and crossed the large entry hall of the Library She could imagine it would be difficult for him to navigate here alone – the hall was high, there were echoes from all over the place, the floor was very even and there was no way to know where to go except by the wall. People were rushing through here, too busy to notice others, so they might have run him over in their rush. It was good she was with him.

They left the library just when Olivia stepped out the butt of her cigarette and the blonde watched confused as her best friend led a man easily twice their age outside. Lyka saw Liv's brows shoot up but didn't react to it.

A car was waiting, like he had said. A scrawny man in his late twenties was leaning against it, wearing jeans and a band shirt of some rock band she didn't know, his brown hair spiked up. On the passenger side sat another young man, surly not much older than Lyka herself, with dark skin, even features, almond-shaped dark eyes and short black hair. He looked like he was in a bad mood and he was wearing a black shirt, as far as she could see.

"Yo, Duke!" the man waiting outside the car called.

"Ah, there they are," Deucalion greeted with a smile. Lyka had a strange itching in the back of her neck, a tingle in her spine, but before she could really name it, Deucalion let his hand slide off her shoulder to her back, resting there for a moment as he leaned closer. "Thank you for your company, Lyka. It has been a pleasure. Perhaps we'll meet again, I'll look forward to it," he said, hardly more than a whisper, close enough that she was quite sure he'd brush her ear with his breath if he got any closer.

"Yes… yes, I would, too," she admitted, flustered by the sudden proximity. But not in a negative way. He let go of her arm and turned towards the car, where the skinny man had opened the back door to let him get in. She saw the other young man say something before the driver had gotten in as well and the engine started. She watched the car drive off when suddenly, someone patted her back.

"Hey? I thought you wanted coffee."

"I thought _you_ wanted to smoke one cigarette. That was _at least_ three," she replied sceptically.

"Um, yeah… there's that… Who was that guy?"

Lyka turned to look for the car, but it was gone already. She shrugged.

"Just… some guy. Let's hit the books."

They turned back towards the library, Liv taking her best friends arm.

"But he was pretty hot. You know, for an old guy," the blonde declared with a grin. And lyka involunaterly blushed.

"He wasn't _that_ old."

They returned to their books, to their work, the strange encounter soon forgotten.

* * *

Steven 'Statler' Jones was not necessarily a _bad_ driver. He was a very _nervous_ driver. Busy urban traffic made him nervous and a bit hectic.

"Dude, seriously, next time, I'll drive." Marco grumbled, shaking his head.

"Yeah, be my guest. This car is weird, too! I miss my car!" Statler declared.

Marco looked back into the rear-view mirror. Deucalion had been awfully quiet since they had left the Library. Not that he was usually the talkative type, not anymore at least. But today he was especially quiet. Their Alpha had aged a lot in the past month since the disastrous ambush he had run into. Marco for his part was by now rather convinced he had it coming. Trusting the hunters? Taking only him, Sun and Carter in there with him? Now two of them were dead. It had been stupid, a case of very bad judgment. Everyone knew Gerard Argent was a crazy psychopath, Deucalion had been naïve and it was actually quite embarrassing. Really, it would have been better if he had just died, if the hunters had killed him instead of making him – and thereby his pack – the laughing-stock of the entire werewolf community. Most didn't agree with Marco on that one and he could just roll his eyes over their loyalty towards this man. He sometimes wondered who really was blind here. The Alpha, or the fools that still followed him.

"So what was this all about?" Marco eventually asked. Deucalion turned his head towards the voice.

"What do you mean?"

"That chick."

"A kind stranger," Deucalion replied after a moment, with a weak smile on his lips. Statler looked at him through the mirror as well.

"She was cute."

"I wouldn't know."

"Oh, right… sorry…" Statler apologized. Sometimes, he really was an idiot. And if there was an opportunity, Statler would most _certainly_ put his foot in it.

"No need to coddle me, Statler. Tell me, did you sense anything… unusual?"

"About the girl? Hard to say. It's almost New Moon, I'm a bit slow these days. Ask me again in a week."

Deucalion laughed and nodded.

"A week… yes… Her name is Lyka."

"Strange name."

"It means _she-wolf_."

Marco turned in his seat, brows pulled into a deep frown.

"You're contemplating turning her, aren't you? You weren't here by accident, you got here on purpose. You were looking for her."

"Actually, I wasn't. But now that I met her… I think I might really turn her."

The Beta's exchanged looks that were both alarmed and confused. Marco however was the one who spoke.

"With the Hunters all up in our business, we need every wolf we can get. Another soldier for the war…"

"There will be no war. Not if I can help it," the blind man declared firmly. Marco sighed.

"You _still_ believe in this truce?"

"It was my mistake to approach Gerard with this. I should have contacted Allison instead, like the Druid suggested. She would have listened, she would have seen the unique opportunity we had. This time, I am not going through a middle man, I am going to the Matriarch herself. If I can get her, the Alpha Superior and the King to sit down together and talk, this peace _will_ happen."

"And you think she will even let you come near her? They think we killed their men, what makes you think she will even let you explain that Gerard killed them himself? And even if she lets you speak, you really think she will take your word over her brother's?"

"Let's just for the moment settle with _I know her well enough_. She will listen."

"I don't like this," Marco declared. Deucalion turned to face him so directly it was almost as if he did see him.

"Good thing it isn't up to you then."

Marco growled annoyed and turned back towards the street, arms crossed over his chest. Deucalion could tell it didn't sit well with him. Marco had always been difficult, had always enjoyed arguing more than anything and loved questioning every decision the Alpha made. He didn't respond well to authority. And he knew with the events of the last month, he had lost Marco's respect. He could in parts understand him. He had risked the lives of his own by trusting a man who could obviously not be trusted. Yes, maybe he had been naïve, maybe he should have known better. But it had been his choice and his Betas had come with him willingly, he had not forced them. He would have gone alone just as well. Because for what it was worth, he believed in that peace. One day, Marco would see it too, he knew that, he _believed_ that. The boy was young and wild and angry, just like he had been when it had all begun. But he had learned and so would Marco.

Eventually.


	3. Moonstruck

**Author's note: **

_Aww you guys I am so happy I'm getting such nice feedback ^^ I think I've never ever had so many readers in such a short time! I hope you all come back and keep enjoying this as much as I enjoy writing it. It's so motivating to see people enjoy the story! _

_You guys might want to watch out, I sometimes like slipping little references to other fandoms in my work ^^ Maybe you'll find them all._

_But now I am keeping this short for a change and get right to serious business! Introducing two new original characters and some beloved canon character in this chapter, I hope you will like them.  
_

* * *

_**Moonstruck**_

She didn't sleep well the nights approaching the full moon. She never had. Her father always said she had a special sense for the moon. When it was waning, she was unmotivated and lazy. When it was waxing, she was energetic, temperamental, usually up to nothing but nonsense. New moon she usually was impossible to get out of bed, full moon she was bursting with energy, was restless and would have dreams. Not necessarily nightmares, but not pleasant also. Bizarre. That was a word to describe these dreams well. The full moon was close and her dreams were haunted. Main and centre stage in these dreams lately?

Deucalion.

She didn't even know why, was quite sure the impression he had made was not _that_ expressed. When she was awake, she hardly even remembered the meeting in the library. But when she was asleep, her brain seemed to want to think of nothing else. Nothing. In any bizarre dream situation she would be – chased by gigantic purple cats in Grand Canyon; forced to relive High School ('_Ugh_') and calculate ('_Ugh²_') in front of the entire class; on a bus trip into a tornado; or her all time favourite, having to push a large boulder uphill only to lose control of it when she was almost there and having to watch it roll all the way down again – he would always be there. He wouldn't actually _do_ anything. He was just sort of... present. Watching, with his de facto blind eyes behind his sunglasses.

Until tonight. Tonight she was in a crowd of people in a large room with no ceiling and no walls visible and it was something like a club but there was no music, everyone was just frantically dancing. And he stood there and suddenly raised his hands to take off his sunglasses in a rather dramatic gesture. And when he did, the eyes behind the dark glasses were red. Not red because of the wounds, not red like blood. But actually glowing red. The material of horror movies. And then she woke up. She kicked her covers off aggressively and sat up.

"Shit. Shit! Get out of my head with this vampire bullshit! I swear if he starts to sparkle tomorrow night, I will give up on all of this and go into some... remote tibetan monastery and contemplate the meaning of life! Shit!" she declared to herself loud enough for Liv – who was sleeping in the other bed in their shared room – to turn around with a senseless mumble. Lyka stayed still for a moment to make sure he friend was sleeping, then she got up, wrapped a dressing gown over her pyjamas, then she left the room.

The dorm hall corridor was abandoned – she didn't even know what time it was – and the only sound heard were her bare feet on the linoleum floor. Oh, and she passed a room with loud snoring. Really loud snoring. She went to the bathroom, the unpleasant neon light making her squeeze her eyes shut on her way to the sink. She let cool water run for a moment, washed her face, ran her fingers through her messy bed hair. Then she brushed her hair out of the way to inspect her neck. She had scratches on the back of her neck, hard to see in a mirror. She had noticed them a few days ago, but wasn't sure where she got them. It was painful, worse than those nasty paper cuts sometime. Annoyed, she let go of her hair and left the bathroom. She reached the kitchen of their floor. Without switching on the lights, she went to the fridge and took milk, then a fork and a half eaten roll of Oreos from her drawer. Then she went outside into the garden behind the dorm, sat down on one of the deck-chairs, and started dunking her cookies.

The moon stood high and full and a mild wind was whispering in the trees. It was a really beautiful, late summer night. The satellite was gigantic tonight as it was orbiting their blue planet and just seeing it made her feel better. The moon always had that effect.

Lying out here, her thoughts wandered. Why had she woken up again? She had trouble remembering now, like always with dreams. But then it came to her again. The blind man, Deucalion. Why? Why did she dream of him? Well, he did have pretty hands. And an _amazing_ voice. But other than that? What did she really know? They had exchanged a few compliments and that was that. She wouldn't even call it flirting. For all she knew, he could be a psycho killer. He'd like to meet her again? Well tough luck. How was she supposed to find him? Couldn't exactly look up 'blind guy Deucalion' in the phone book, could she?

"Maybe if you wanted to meet again you should have given me your fracking phone number!" she yelled at the moon. Somewhere, a window opened.

"Shut up bitch it's half past three in the morning!"

"Sorry Jeff!" she called back. The window closed again and she continued – quietly so – dunking her cookies. It was a very quiet night, wasn't it? A slightly frustrated sigh escaped her. Half past three in the morning. Great. And tomorrow an early lecture in medieval laws. Fantastic. She'd fall asleep after five minutes, probably wouldn't even see the end of the first slide. Eventually she looked from the moon into her glass of milk, where a cookie had completely dissolved into a muddy chunk. Really, was everything a disappointment these days? A moment she contemplated fishing it out or just drinking the whole damn thing, but her thoughts did a back flip when she realised she wasn't alone. She was absolutely certain she had seen a human silhouette in the corner of her eye just a moment ago, a shadow figure with glowing, red eyes. But when she looked up, there was no one there. Hallucinating now, was she? Going crazy after all? Moonstruck? Lunatic?

But there was a rustling in the bushes and she jumped up instantly.

"Hey! Creep! I know you're there!" she declared. Realised she probably sounded really crazy because what could possibly be there? The only way into this garden was through the dorm and to get into the dorm you needed a key card. Probably she was yelling at a stray cat or something. Considering cats freaked her out with their creepy eyes didn't help. Her neighbour, where she used to babysit sometimes, had a cat: vicious creature, acting all schmoozy and cute but when no one was watching, the little beast would slam its claws into her heel every single time and yes, basically she and cats didn't get along at all. She was an absolute dog-person.

But what if it wasn't a cat? What if there was actually some creep hiding in the bushes? She stepped backwards slowly, towards the door. And that was when she saw it again, the shadow, the figure. She flew around and the figure froze. Crouching in the darkness, red eyes fixed on her. Even with the bright full moon she had trouble seeing what it was. It was something impossibly large and dark and… shaggy. Furry. And then the moonlight reflected in bared, sharp teeth.

"Holy shit!" she called out, stumbled towards the door as she heard the creature growl and move closer, claws digging in the dirt, then scratching on the stone path towards her. Two deck chairs flew over and she dropped her glass of milk. It shattered on the floor and she found herself with the back against the wall, face to face with the monstrosity. She wasn't even sure _what_ it was! Just that it was probably going to kill her.

Before her stood something that was… neither human nor bear nor wolf nor… anything, really. A beast right out of a horror movie – but one with a good budget, she had to admit. Its arms caged her in, she couldn't move away, claws were sharply scratching on the stone wall. She had trouble breathing over her fear, was quite sure she'd hyperventilate any moment. What a way to die. In a flower patterned dressing gown, ripped to pieces by a mutant wolf thing.

The creature came closer, teeth still bared, and its hot breath blew through her hair. She was very still, didn't dare move, only dared breathe because she damn well had to. They stood like that for a long moment before she finally frowned.

"If you're here to kill me… then why don't you…?" she asked in little more than a whisper. The creature dragged its claws down the wall, just past her ears, making her flinch away. And when she looked up again, it was gone. There was a moment of frozen silence and then a loud, terrible howling filled the air, like a wolf howling at the moon.

Her knees gave in. It was a surprise they had managed to keep her up as long as they had, but now she just simply collapsed to the floor, tried to catch her breath, tried to steady her heartbeat that was so out of control it was a miracle her heart didn't jump right out her chest. She was not at all sure what had just happened, but she was very sure that she escaped with her life for a reason, that this thing had not come here to kill her. But… to show itself to her. Why, she could not fathom. It took her some effort to get back to her feet and pull herself into the kitchen. She stood, holding on to the sink for a long time, wondering when her body would react appropriately and she'd throw up her midnight snack. But nothing happened. Because for some odd reason she wasn't… scared. She had been, out there, for a moment. But then… then she had stopped. Like she somehow knew there was no reason to be afraid. Perhaps a foolish notion, but she had almost felt… familiar to this creature.

Eventually she shook her head violently. Whatever that was, it would probably turn out she just had a wild imagination. Giant monster wolves during full moon. Yeah right. She left the kitchen, returned to her bedroom, silently climbed into bed to not wake Liv. And she lay awake for a while, wondering, before exhaustion took its toll…

When she got up in the morning she was almost entirely convinced she had only dreamed the whole thing up. But there was commotion in the kitchen. She and Liv got downstairs, several students had gathered, muffled conversations, sounding rather worried. The janitor was busy, aggressively plastering mortar onto the outside wall in the garden of the dorm. Lyka frowned and tried to get a better view of what was going on. And there it was. On the wall, right where she had stood the night before, faced with the creature. A symbol, scratched into the stone with deep claws that no paint in the world would be able to cover up. A spiralling triangle…

* * *

The sun was barely scratching the horizon when she reached the abandoned distillery. The smell of old blood was still strong here and animals avoided the place. What had happened here, little over a month ago, was simply too cruel and it lingered as a memory in the earth here, in the air. Humankind at its weakest.

She had her hands buried in the pockets of her coat, jaws clenched together, her dark brows in a worried frown. Hector was still outside. He was running dirt through his hands, his eyes closed, filtering the different smells – those that naturally belonged there and those that were foreign: ashes, wolfsbane, blood. Eventually he looked up.

"Has he called for vendetta yet?" he asked.

Talia Hale slowly shook her head. No, he hadn't. He wouldn't.

"He won't. He's not like that…" she eventually replied.

"People change, given the circumstances, Talia," Hector reminded her.

"Not him. I know him. He will not betray everything he believes in," she calmly replied before turning towards saw the car pull up outside the distillery. Dust whirled up from the wheels, then the engine fell silent. Peter got out on the driver side and opened the door in the back. First out was a walking cane, supporting an old man with gray hair, a thick gray beard and pale green eyes. He was wearing a long, dark grey coat and a light suit, fine shoes, a heavy ring with a family crest on his finger. Hector bowed.

"Sir," he greeted respectfully.

Richard Hale, most respected Werewolf of the continent, weakly nodded towards his son-in-law before walking past him and into the distillery. Richard was more than an Alpha – he had passed his red eyes on to his eldest long ago. He was _more_ than that now. For lack of a better term, Richard Hale was the King of all Wolves.

"Thanks for coming," Talia said with a smile. Richard smiled back.

"For my Princess? Always," he said and she leaned down a little so he could kiss her forehead. When had he gotten so small? She was wearing heels, but she could have sworn the last time she had seen him he still was taller than her. Or maybe it was imagination because he was her father and she hoped he'd always be there. And recent events made her realize he might not.

After Richard had left the car, two others had followed. Dr. Alan Deaton, a broad-shouldered, dark-skinned man wearing a fine, light coat and a suit, joined them. One of the most trusted allies of the Hale family, a druid and as such their emissary. With him was 18-year-old Laura the eldest of the newest generation of Hale wolves. She looked like her mother – the same wild, dark hair, confident dark eyes, a smile that lit up any room when she walked in. She was in a black trench coat, a turquoise dress and was wearing black heels. She flinched a little when the metallic stench of blood hit her sensitive nose and she shuddered.

The Hale family and their emissary entered the distillery, the abandoned, hollow hall where the massacre had taken place. Gray light was shining through cracks in the old walls and the large claw marks ripped into the corrugated sheeting weeks ago drew a spiral of light on the floor. "Have you heard word from him since?"

"No, nothing," Talia said, shaking her head, then turned towards the Emissary "He returned to Boston right after you tended to his wounds."

Deaton nodded silently but there was a worried look on his face. This place made him uneasy and they could not blame him. The ground was poisoned with the blood of treason.

"What will happen now?" Laura asked, rubbing her arms to keep away the chill of the place.

"Why should we bother? This is none of our affair. Duke made the call, he messed up, let him sort this out."

"Deucalion is a part of this family and what has been done to him was a heinous act of treason. Argent _will_ pay for this," Richard growled.

"Deucalion doesn't seem interested in revenge, if he was, he would have made it known by now. Let's not make this a bigger deal than it is," Hector reminded them.

"Argent attacked four of our kind who had come to him seeking peace. Two are dead now. He is a man with no honour and he must pay for his treason. I cannot imagine the Matriarch agreed with his behaviour, I cannot believe a house of such ancient, honourable Hunters would resort to such deceitful measures," Richard reminded them.

Talia was unusually quiet. Her face a mask, unreadable even by those closest to her. But finally, she turned towards them.

"What you have in mind is a war, father. That is _exactly_ what Deucalion tried to avoid."

"What do you propose then?"

"Let me talk to him. Let me find out how his position in all of this is and then we can make our decision. Declaring vendetta on the Argents will call other hunter families onto the agenda and we will need other packs to join us. Before we know it, we'll have a full-blown war at our hands. I am far from as idealistic as Deucalion is, but I know a foolish choice when I see one and in a war like that… _everyone_ loses."

There was a moment of silence before the King turned towards the druid.

"What do you say, Emissary?" he asked. Deaton looked up, found the entire family looking at him, anticipating his perspective. He shook his head slowly.

"I am with Talia on this one. Deucalion was naïve to think Gerard Argent wouldn't wait for him with a dagger shaped for his back. But his vision of peace is worth believing in. We can't risk an all-out war. I can't imagine it's what any of you want. Do you want Derek and Cora to grow up on the run? Beacon Hills has become the home of this pack, a war… will force all of us to return to the nomadic life our people have led for centuries… I don't think it's feasible, I think we should not rush into this before having explored every peaceful alternative."

He met Talia's gaze, she smiled weakly and nodded, hardly visible. Richard ran a hand over his beard.

"Very well. Talia, I support your decision to seek him out before rushing into this. Travel to Boston and speak to him, also tell him if he wishes to go after Argent, the Hale family and our allies will support him, as we have always done. As he has always supported us. We will not make a decision without your and his approval."

Talia nodded, approving of her father's judgment. They had made many decisions out of poor judgment before, it was time they started treading more carefully. Richard turned and walked away, Deaton followed him to make sure he was alright and she could hear how annoyed her father was by that. It made her smile a little. Then she turned towards her brother.

"You were awfully quiet."

Peter looked up, then shrugged.

"It's not like anyone cares what I think about this. You're the Alpha. I have the name Hale, you _are_ the Hale, aren't you?"

She rolled her eyes a little.

"Peter…"

"Save it, sister."

Without another word, Peter left the distillery to get back to the car in order to drive his father and the Emissary back into the city. Talia sighed frustrated. It was more difficult, being the oldest, than people made it look. She wrapped an arm around her daughter and kissed her hair.

"Good for you that your brother is nothing like mine…"

Laura chuckled a little, then the two of them left the distillery as well, followed by Hector.

"Should I come with you? I don't like you going to Boston alone."

"It's not enemy territory, Hector. Deucalion's pack are no rivals, they are part of our alliance."

"I still don't like him."

"He's dear to me, you know that."

"I know. I just don't like the way he looks at you," Hector growled. Talia laughed, radiant and beautiful as ever.

"Oh, don't be silly," she replied, playing it down. But he knew it was not just Deucalion. He knew the way _she_ looked at the other Alpha. He knew they had a history. That didn't mean he had to like it. They watched the car pull away and walked down the path, away from the site of the horrible massacre. Beacon Hills lay below, seemingly peaceful. And Talia hoped it would stay that way.


	4. Chosen

**Chosen**

The abandoned warehouse was where they usually met. They had come from different walks of life, each with their little burdens or bigger burdens. And they had all somehow found their way to the pack.

Deucalion's pack was the largest of the Hale alliance. An alliance of packs spanning all across the United States, from Beacon Hills, California where the Hale family themselves were located, all the way to the East Coast, to Boston, the packs were scattered roughly along the Canadian border. A pack in Washington State, two in Minnesota, three around the general Chicago area, one up in Maine, and this pack in Boston, Massachusetts.

His pack used to count a remarkable nine members, six of whom he had turned himself. The other three had been Omega's wandering around to find his pack after losing their own, he had taken them in and had not regretted it so far. The two oldest members of his pack were Waldorf – whose real name no one even knew – and Susan Hayworth, 41 and 56 years old respectively. These two and another Omega, Paul, were old school rockers. Usually they showed up in biker attire, with their Harley's parked outside the warehouse. Paul usually had his girlfriend with him, a Beta turned by Deucalion himself: Abigail was now 23 years old, blonde, sensual, beautiful. Waldorf, who had a nickname for each of them, just called her Butterfly because that was just how delicate she looked. If you didn't cross her. Because when she was mad, that girl would easily claw your face off. Then there was Steven Jones who had taken to call himself Statler, so he and his best friend were literally 'Statler and Waldorf', the two grumpy old Muppets. Statler was a little criminal genius, faking ID's, hacking records, keeping them off the radar. And the two youngest members of the pack were Liam Field – who didn't talk much – and Marco Lombardi.

The two remaining members of this pack were dead. Killed in a brutal ambush by the Hunters. Justin Sun had been only 21, the most recently turned, but so very loyal. And Ross Carter had been the closest to a friend Deucalion could name. He felt the loss even after over a month.

Waldorf knew Deucalion sometimes woke up screaming, remembering the ambush. But none of them could understand what it was like. To see it all – the blood, the brutality, to hear the screams, feel the life drain from them as if it was your own – only to wake up in cold, dead darkness. To know that the death of two of your own would be the last visual memory you would have next to the face of the psychopath who thought taking your eyes was a fitting response to a peace-offering.

When Deucalion joined the rest of the pack today, it was the first time in weeks that he seemed... strangely content. He followed the warmth of the fire they had lit and were sitting around, joined them there. That was unusual. He normally sat a bit separate, lost in his own thoughts. The poet and thinker, while they mostly were in it for the fun. That was the difference between them and him. Almost all of them had accepted the bite just for the thrill. He had not accepted it, it had been forced onto him and while he could have given up on it then, he had chosen to live, chosen to accept his new role and change the world with it. It had been what he had tried to do for as long as he remembered. The child in him, the child he had been when he was bitten, still refused to believe that it should be impossible for them to exist alongside the hunters.

Waldorf watched as their Alpha joined them, then grinned.

"You're in an exceptionally good mood, Boss," he then said. Deucalion turned towards him and smirked.

"I am. I am in a very good mood, thank you for noticing, Waldorf."

"So, what's the happy news?" the older wolf inquired.

"The girl from the library. She's a moonchild."

"Ohhh! Nice!" Statler declared. Susan however did not seem to excited. The older woman looked up with a frown.

"You're thinking about turning someone new?" she asked. He heard the worry in her voice.

"We're incomplete now. Vulnerable as a pack. The sooner we get the missing wolves replaced, the better."

"You can't just _replace_ Carter and Sun," Susan protested. Deucalion sighed and rubbed his eyes behind his glasses. Wrong choice of words.

"Of course not. That's _not_ what I meant. Carter and Sun were family, they can't be replaced. But the pack needs to be strong. We are the strongest pack in the alliance, the others rely on us and we need to deliver."

"I agree with the Boss," Waldorf noted.

"But a girl. Is that wise? Considering that, as you say, we are vulnerable now, and you know how unstable freshly turned she-wolves can be..."

"Which is why, should it come to that, I will rely on you two to make sure we all get through this," Deucalion explained. Susan and Abigail exchanged quick glances, the younger she-wolf shrugged.

"I am not a babysitter," Susan then grumbled.

"No. But you are, as oldest female in the pack, burdened with this role."

"You love it, don't even lie," Abigail teased.

"And what's so special about this girl? Why her? Why now?" Marco asked.

"She's not more special than any of you. Born with the moon in her blood. The first moon child we've come across since... well, since Sun."

There was a moment of silence, as if they had wordlessly agreed to appreciate the sacrifices made briefly when mentioned. Sun had been running with the pack for only little over two years, he had been the baby brother, the puppy. Losing him had perhaps hit them all the hardest.

"Is there even a point in arguing with you over this or will you just go ahead and do it anyways?" Susan finally broke the silence. Deucalion smirked.

"I'll just go ahead and do it anyways," he confirmed. There were soft chuckled from Waldorf, Statler, Paul and Abigail, even Liam pulled the corners of his mouth up to a rare smile. Only Marco remained silent. Susan sighed loudly.

"Fine, whatever. You're the Alpha," she declared.

"Thank you for your trust. All of you."

Paul lit a cigarette and the pack sat in silence for a while, Statler poking in the fire with a long stick.

"So when are you going to do it?" Waldorf asked after a while.

The response of their Alpha however was cut short when a mighty howl filled the night. The pack sat up instantly, Deucalion rose to his feet. He knew that howl, would recognise it anywhere. The wolves were on alert, staring at the large gate of the warehouse. The night outside was dark and calm and they could all sense the presence. An overwhelming power, approaching in the dark.

The figure could hardly be seen until she was almost in the warehouse with them, her dark fur blending in with the shadows of the night. Only her red eyes gave away that she was there. Susan instantly rose to her feet and went to get a large blanket from the trailer. By the time she returned the wolf that had joined them was just shifting back into her human form. The men of their pack bowed, turned their gazes away from the currently completely naked woman in their midst. Not because she wasn't an absolute sight for sore eyes, her beautiful curves definitely worth staring at. But out of respect, they all looked away. All except for the one who could not see her, even if he wanted to.

But he didn't have to see to know she was there. He recognized her scent – a forest after a summer rain, wild flowers. And he could not help but smile, delighted by her presence.

"Talia."

Susan came closer, politely bowing before she placed the blanket on the majestic she-wolves shoulders.

"Thank you, Susan."

"I'd bring some of my clothes but I... I don't think... it's not what would suit one like you I suppose..."

"It's alright, Susan, thank you."

He heard her smile. Clear and unmistaken in her voice and he could vividly picture it on her face. And then she turned towards him, he somehow knew it exactly. "Deucalion."

He smiled.

"What brings you all the way out here, Talia?" he asked and offered his arm. She took it and watched him carefully while she did. He seemed to be doing well, didn't he? Adjusting. Despite the loss of his eyesight she could still recognize the man she knew. Deucalion was still there. The pack also looked well – those that remained of it at least.

"I hadn't heard from you since... I was worried."

"I am humbled by your concern," he admitted. She felt like he stood taller. He had always been prouder than most, had always been one of the few people who looked her directly in the eyes when they talked while others tended to look away like they could not deal with who she was, with _what_ she was. Deucalion had always been different. But he had changed since the events in the distillery, she could tell. She had been worried it might be pulling him down, that he might have retreated into isolation and depression. But she had been wrong. He was holding himself up remarkably and she was so proud of that. Of him.

"It is good to see you well, Deucalion. My father sends his regards. Oh, and Cora asks when you will be visiting, she has discovered a certain talent in weaving flower crowns and she wanted to make you one."

There was a collective '_Awwwwww_' from the rest of the pack and Deucalion had to chuckle. But then he was serious again.

"I... need to figure some things out, before I can think about returning to Beacon Hills. As much as I want to."

She nodded silently, then placed a hand on his arm.

"I want you to know whatever you chose to do, my pack supports you. The alliance supports you."

He sighed.

"You're here to ask me if I plan on taking revenge on the Argent's, aren't you?"

She smiled.

"Am I being that obvious? It's just... Father is very determined that Gerard Argent has to pay for his dishonour. You know how he is that way."

"I don't see a point in it, to be honest. I... what happened to my Beta's was terrible, but I don't blame the entirety of the Argent family. I blame Gerard. I will, once I have figured things out for myself, seek an audience on neutral ground with the Matriarch. She will hear me out, I know that."

"Are you sure? I mean... you haven't seen her in a long time."

He smiled a little and nodded.

"I know her. Even after all these years, I believe that she will not tolerate unnecessary bloodshed. I was hoping... should she agree to negotiate a truce with the rest of our kind... if Richard would join, show our people's willingness to cooperate."

"He believes in you, Deucalion. He always believed you to be chosen for a greater purpose. I think he will listen to you," she insisted. Deucalion smiled and turned towards her, took her hand and it made her startle.

"And you? Do _you_ believe in me?"

"You know that."

"I do. I just like hearing it," he said, his voice a soft growl that made her knees turn soft but she forced herself to keep standing. It didn't get easier when he raised his hands, touched her face, his fingertips on her cheeks, then her lips.

"Don't..." she whispered. Because no matter how strong she was, she was not _that_ strong.

"It's the only way I'm ever going to see you again..."

It took her a moment, before she reached up and took the dark glasses off his eyes. Underneath, the scaring was hardly visible. It was good to see that. The last time she had seen him - in Deaton's clinic - he had looked terrible. Severely burned, his flesh peeling. It had taken her all of her control to not cry for him because he deserved more than pity. But his eyes were not the same anymore. They were pale, empty. She remembered them to be so full of live, so full of hope and promise. She put her hands on his cheeks and leaned closer, her lips gentle on his eyelids. First the left, then the right.

"I am sorry, Deucalion. I am sorry this happened to you. And I admire your strength, your faith in people, your vision of peace. You are a great man. And I believe in you."

He stood still as she spoke, her lips on his scared lids, her breath warm against his skin. He wanted to protest when she stepped away but reminded himself that she was not his after all. She had chosen another and he would have to live with that, no matter how much he would have given to be with her. "What will you do about your pack?" she then asked, suddenly very matter-of-factly, as if to cover the relative intimacy of that moment they had just shared.

"I intend to change someone. A girl I came across recently, a moonchild of great potential, I believe."

"Oh? Should I be concerned?"

She saw him smirk and it made her smile in turn. There were glimpses of the Deucalion she knew. He may be blind, but he was still the same man, and underneath it still the same quirky natured boy she had known so long.

"Jealousy doesn't suit a woman such as yourself, Talia. There will _never_ be one quite like you."

She laughed, a sound he had always greatly enjoyed and that would never change, especially now that he couldn't see her, and her voice was all he had left to remember her by. "You know, I am not as upset about the fact that I am blinded as I am about the fact that you weren't the last thing I saw."

"Oh you're still such a flirt, unbelievable!" she declared, still laughing. They returned to the campfire and the rest of his pack where Abby handed the superior she-wolf one of her dresses - white, short and frilly - fitting her much better than any of Susan's clothes would have but still did not do the Queen of all wolves justice. But she accepted gratefully. He listened carefully for it and smiled, knowing that her greatness came not from slaughtering rival packs or hunters, but from being the one woman all packs in the alliance had agreed they could follow, to the end of the world if she asked them to. her father may in title still be the King, but it was Talia they were truly loyal to.

"Will you stay in town, or will you return to Beacon Hills right away?" he inquired as he sat down with his pack again.

"I might stay a few days. Meet that girl you chose."

"She can only profit from it. The Queen of Wolves present to share her wisdom."

"And I imagine with all your political responsibility, it's been quite a while since you ran around butt naked in the woods, MyLady," Waldorf said with a wide grin – the man who knew no respect at all. But it made Talia laugh and that was very well worth it.

* * *

**Author's note:**

_It's the weekend, I have no live, so have another chapter! And probably tomorrow another one as well..._

_A main reason why I started this fic in the first place was because I wanted to explore what Deucalion would be like with a pack – a real pack of Beta's that follow him because they care for him and he cares for them and they are not just rolling with it because they're too terrified to go against him. We haven't really seen anything like that on the show aside a few insights into how Derek was when his pack was still happy – before everyone was dead and gone, you know. I imagine in a time where packs don't have to constantly fear for their lives they'd be super fun to hang out with. Also I wondered about how big Deucalion's pack was. Like, we've seen the guys with him in 'Visionary' – but were they all of them? Or were there more? Since he said killing his Beta's made him stronger, did that mean just Marco or did he eventually kill others as well? Well, I think he had a much bigger pack and I already love all of them!_

_No Lyka in this chapter, I only noticed that when I was already done. But she'll be back in the next one. I just really, really wanted to write that scene with Deucalion and Talia ^^_

_Leave a review (or a message, I like messages too ^^), I need to know if my Talia does the canon character justice, it's difficult to write such characters convincing..._


	5. Bitten

**Bitten**

In retrospect, she wasn't entirely clear on the details anymore.

She remembered it was a Friday night and she was out with Liv and a few of their fellow students. The usual TGIF madness. They didn't have to wait in line, mostly thanks to the endlessly long legs and very blonde hair of her best friend. She had no shame whatsoever using her looks to get things like that but mercy on the poor bastard that tried to outsmart her or tried to make her look like the 'dumb blonde' – that fellow was in for a rough ride. She enjoyed Liv as a friend because she was a walking, talking contradiction to clichés in the media. That women could only be beautiful or smart, never both. Utter bullshit, and Liv was living proof of that.

Well, Lyka wasn't too bad herself. After the typical teenage drama every girl had at around 15 or 16, thinking she'd never look adequate, never be pretty, never be desirable, it had all worked out the moment she literally stopped giving a frack. Moving away from home and studying also did wonders for self-confidence.

Liv returned from the bar with two margaritas. The blonde was wearing a bright apple green mini dress, high heels and her hair put up fabulously and Lyka could see she already had some guys number written on her arm.

"Javier, from Spain, 25, super cute accent, plays guitar," Liv summarised when she dropped herself in the other chair and noticed her best friends look.

"Will you call?"

"Hell no!"

They both burst into laughter. The dance floor was busy, back here the music was at a level that actually allowed conversation. Liv took out a cigarette, lit it, then looked over at her friend. "I love the whole slutty librarian thing you got going today."

"It's the glasses, isn't it? I accidentally stepped on one of my lenses and can't get new ones before Monday," Lyka sighed frustrated as she took off the glasses. Really, it could only be the glasses. And the dark blazer she had come here with, now hanging over the back of her chair. She was wearing high, black heels and a bright salmon pink, backless dress, cascading elegantly in the front. She had never worn it before but had decided tonight was a good night for this dress. As good as any really.

"Yeah, but it's cool. I can point out at least three guys in here that have dirty fantasies about you _right now_ with those glasses and that blazer," Liv teased. They both laughed again. "So, any plans on getting laid tonight?"

"Not specifically, you?"

"I might, depending on the options. I thought the girl over there looked smoking hot, her haircut makes me all tingly!" Liv declared, scanning the area. Lyka was just about to respond when one of the waiters came over with a new drink he placed before Lyka on the table.

"Um…"

"From some dude on the bar," the waiter said and disappeared again. Lyka scanned the bar, having a bit of difficulty since she had put down the glasses, looking for anyone who might have sent it, but no one seemed particularly interested in their corner. She pushed the drink away.

"Yeah, better not. Never know if some psycho mixed something in there," Liv commented sternly and took the napkin the drink had been placed on. "Didn't even leave a number. Just a weird doodle."

"Show me."

Liv turned the napkin and Lyka's face froze for a second. It was the strange triangular symbol that had been carved into the wall of their dorm. It had kept her mind busy for the past few days. She was drawing it again and again, doodles in her lecture notes, had even tried to find its meaning on the internet but with little success. Some crazy theories about it being the symbol of a curse and those who saw it would turn into monsters by the next full moon, like a werewolf. It instantly made her think back to the creature she had encountered on – oh surprise! – the last full moon. She was still not entirely convinced it had really happened, even after finding conclusive evidence that she had indeed dropped and smashed a glass of milk in the dorm garden, so that had happened.

She snatched the napkin from her best friend and shot up, looking around, searching, trying to spot whoever had drawn this, whoever had sent the drink.

"Whoa there, are you okay? Where's the fire?" Liv asked worried. Lyka slowly sat down and nodded.

"Yeah… yeah I'm fine… I just…"

And there he was.

_Deucalion._

Her gaze got caught staring past her best friend, far across the dance floor, hard to see yet impossible to miss because he was the only one perfectly still in the strange blurry compilation of movements in the club. Just like in her dream. For a brief moment she was not entirely convinced if she was awake right now. Was not sure if what she saw was real. Yet she could see him, slowly raise his hands to his glasses, taking them off, just like she had seen it. It was hard to see in the darkness of the club and without glasses, only interrupted by crazy colours and flashing lights, but she did see his silvered blue eyes for a moment. And then… red. A glow, just for a brief second.

Some drunk stumbled against their table, obscuring her view of the dance floor for a moment, causing both girls to protest loudly and by the time the idiot had stumbled away and the drinks were spilled, Deucalion was gone. "I need air, I'll be back in a few!"

Lyka jumped up and before Liv could protest she had smacked a kiss on her best friend's cheek, grabbed her blazer and was on her way out.

"You are acting weird today!" she heard Liv call and then she was already out of the club. It was drizzling, not cold, but somehow unpleasant. Anyone who could avoid being outside did so, the streets were almost entirely abandoned. Except for her and the blind man standing on the opposite side of the road. Cane in hands, sunglasses covering his eyes, motionless like a statue dressed in jeans and a leather jacket. She was reluctant to come closer for a moment and by the way he slowly leaned his head to the side, she felt like he somehow sensed her hesitation.

"Are you for real?" she called over.

"I am not sure I understand the question," he replied. His voice made her shiver. Her memory of it did the real thing no justice. She looked down the road on both sides, then crossed over to get to him. She watched him attentively, trying to figure out if he reacted to the sounds she made, hoping to somehow tell for certain that he was, in fact, _not_ blind. Because she still had trouble believing it. But he showed no observable reaction.

"I've been seeing you everywhere lately."

"Oh? I'm flattered."

He smiled, she was a bit startled by the sight. Had he been _this_ handsome the other day in the library? Or did the barely lit street play tricks on her mind? "Unfortunately, I can't return the compliment," he added, pointing to his eyes.

"I am not sure it was a compliment. Because either I have been obsessed with you to the point where it's unhealthy… or you were actually there and you are some crazy stalker I should report to the police right now."

"Perhaps it's neither?"

She sighed frustrated, rolled her eyes.

"Okay, here's the deal. I've seen enough stupid teenage vampire movies to recognise this… thing you have going on and I'll inform you, it doesn't work on me."

He raised his brows, looking almost offended for a moment, then he laughed an honest laugh, from deep within his chest and she really, really wanted to place a hand on his chest to feel the vibration of his voice. She instantly blushed from the mere thought – because in her mind, he was now shirtless. And it was a very pleasant image. Really, she wasn't sure what he was trying to pull off here but saying it _didn't_ work in her was perhaps the biggest lie she had ever told someone.

He shook his head.

"You think I'm a _vampire_?"

"I don't know, do _you_ think you're a vampire?"

"I thought you said you studied History. You sounded an awful lot like a therapist just now," he teased, smirking a little. Then he took off his glasses, blinked. His scars looked better than a few days ago. Or maybe it was just the light. "Here's the thing, Lyka. I am _not_ a vampire. That said..."

Suddenly, his eyes were so directly focused on her face that she again doubted whether he was really blind. And they were glowing. A deep, primeval, angry red. She gasped, stumbled backwards. He heard the sound; his hand shot forward and caught her arm. His fingers closed around her arm like a vise, painful, burning, and she recognised that sense of threat. All her instincts were yelling at her, telling her to run, run like hell, run for her life. Get out of this while she still could.

"_What_ are you?"

"Now _that_ is a very cliché question, isn't it? I am a werewolf."

He said it with something so absolute in his voice that there was no argument she could think of to counter it. She wasn't sure how long she stared at him, how long they just stood like that. But eventually, something seemed to make him believe that she wouldn't run away screaming. He let her arm go and she pulled away, much slower than she had thought she would. She had thought about running as soon as she got the chance but… now she didn't feel like it anymore.

Her thoughts were rattling, it was a miracle he didn't hear them. _Werewolf_. Her thoughts shot back to the other night. Full moon. The creature in the garden and then the symbol on the wall. No. It couldn't be. That had NOT been him, no chance in hell, never. "Any thoughts?"

"Give me a minute, I am absorbing the new information, this process might take several minutes…" she stated. He chuckled. A very distracting sound. She shook herself violently. "Okay. Let me get this straight. Werewolf? As in… _howling at the full moon werewolf_?"

"Again, a bit cliché, but yes, we do that. Some also like to stick their heads out the car window while driving, it's great fun."

"Don't you sass me, Mister! How the hell can you be a werewolf?! There's no such thing as werewolves!" she protested.

"You saw it and you still don't believe it?"

She was silent for a long moment, staring at his calm, handsome features. His face looked gentle but there was... something underneath the surface. Something monstrous.

"That... in the garden... that was you...?"

Again, that smirk. God dammit she would never get that out of her mind! By now she had her arms crossed firmly in front of her. She was shaking. Not because she was afraid, which she thought was the most confusing part about this. She should feel scared! He was intimidating. But also... he made her wonder. Wonder why he would choose... her. She looked up and he seemed to sense her hesitation, her unspoken question. He leaned closer.

"Go on, don't be shy, you know you want to ask..." he said and the voice made her knees turn to jelly. A deep, smooth, seductive velvet growl, he knew exactly what he was doing and it was unfair. Because _she_ had no idea what the hell _she_ was doing.

"Why me?"

"Why you?" he repeated. And then raised a hand to her face. His fingertips wandered from her forehead past her brows, down her cheek, catching a strand of her hair, brushing it behind her ear before tracing the line of her jaw down to her chin. She was literally frozen to the spot. Given any other circumstance, she would declare him creepy, slap him in the face and run back into the club to tell security. But this was different. Maybe it was because she figured he was actually not _touching_ her, but rather _looking_ at her. Even just a little. "You're special, Lyka. You feel the influence of the moon stronger than normal humans. Individuals like you... are very rare. You were born to be a wolf. Haven't you ever felt like something is missing? It's because you're trapped in a life that was never meant to be yours. You were meant to be so much more..."

He had stepped closer, trapping her in his huge shadow as his fingertips trailed over her lips. He felt her breath shake, felt heat crawl into her cheeks and she saw him smirk. He had her right where he needed her and that annoyed her because she was completely powerless. Because she _wanted_ him! Dear God, she didn't even know where that came from! It was as if her subconscious had planted that thought in the back of her mind for days already, subtly making him show up in her dreams, occupying her thoughts with him. All so she would eventually be here and feel her mouth turn dry like paper with the thought of what his lips might taste like.

All of a sudden, he took a step away from her and she stumbled forward, sighed frustrated.

"Tease," she mumbled to herself. He smirked.

"Don't you have questions? Usually people have hundreds of questions."

"Oh? I get to ask? You're not just going to turn me on the spot?"

"No. I condemn Alpha's who create wolves that way, it isn't right. Everyone should be given the choice. Everyone has a right to make an informed decision. The bite will change your life. It is not a choice to be made lightly. So... ask,"

There was something very insistent in his voice and she thought about what she wanted to ask. What did she really want to know? Did she really care? Did it _really_ matter? She knew already that she _wanted_ to be a wolf, like him, that she was meant to be one. That she would be so much better as a wolf. It didn't matter what he told her, that wouldn't change.

Still, she asked and he explained. All of it, from the fantastic upsides that came with being a werewolf to the horrible downsides it had until one really mastered it. About how she'd have to be chained up and secured during the full moon until she could control the beast within. About how their kind had always been hunted. But also the good things, oh the good things that were worth going through all the bad ones...

And at some point he was very silent, before he asked: "You didn't run away yet."

"Really I was just asking these questions to be polite. I don't really care about the upsides and downsides. If you weren't convinced I could handle it, I doubt you'd even bother talking to me."

He smirked.

"Oh I have no doubt that you can handle it. Marvellously so, I believe."

"Then what are you waiting for, oh Alpha my Alpha?" she teased.

And then it happened much faster than she could later recollect. A flash of red eyes before her and the next thing she knew, she was being pressed against a cold stone wall, her back to him, trapped by his body without an escape. And there it was again. That sense of threat, the certainty that this was in fact a terrifying danger she had somehow found herself tangled in. Like an instinct in the back of her head, screaming at her to run, run for her life while she still could because this was too big, too much, too deadly to be good for her or for anyone really. There was a beast within him and in that moment she knew with the utmost certainty that he would rip her to pieces – slowly perhaps, but he would. She was giving up every chance at a good life she had and suddenly she was overcome by a stinging doubt. What about her family? Her parents, her siblings. What about Liv? Could she just continue her 'normal' everyday life? Perhaps that had been a question she should have asked. But now she couldn't back out anymore. He brushed her hair away, she felt claws on her neck.

"This will hurt," he growled in her ear, his lips brushing her earlobe, she felt the vibration of his voice in his chest, pressed against her back. There was a dark, animalistic growl and glowing red eyes before he sunk his teeth deep into her left shoulder.

He had not exaggerated. It hurt like hell! She found herself unable to move away from the beast holding her down and when she was about to scream she had a hand cover her mouth, silencing her. She felt blood on her skin, staining her pink dress, felt an impossible pain spread through her body like fire and turn her knees weak. She couldn't breathe, her heart was stumbling out of rhythm painfully and she was rather sure she was crying even if she made no sound. He pulled away and when she collapsed he had an arm around her, holding her up. He cradled her like a child, brushed her hair from her face gently, his claws still out and she saw her blood drip from his chin. His eyes were glowing eerily. She was sure she wanted to say something but he shushed her with gentle whispers, shook his head.

"It'll get worse before it gets better, Princess. But it will get better."

_Liar._

* * *

The next thing Lyka remembered was waking up in a dark, dirty warehouse. There were voices nearby, muffled though, or she was just still dizzy because everything was blurry, spinning and she felt like she had been under water too long. She sat up and instantly felt her heat sting painfully, making her fall back with an exhausted moan.

"Take it slow. The change takes a lot out of you."

She blinked up at the woman who had spoken. A dark-haired beauty. The woman smiled as she sat down and handed her water. And by God she was thirsty. She ripped the bottle from the woman's hands and drained it in a heartbeat. It tasted incredible. Better than any water ever! She sighed relieved and leaned back down, watching the woman. She seemed tall, elegant, her long hair shining like silk, her eyes a deep, warm hazel and she had soft freckles on her nose. "You look well though. For a newly turned. It will be a different story the next full moon, but that will pass in time. I'm Talia. Talia Hale."

"Lyka McCall."

The woman raised both brows into a sharp arc.

"McCall? Related to... Donovan McCall?"

"My grandfather," Lyka confirmed, slightly confused. How did this woman know her grandfather? For some reason she could sense a strange change in the woman's attitude at the mention of her name and it alerted her.

"Does Deucalion know you're a McCall?"

"No. Why? Does it matter?"

"It might. But for now, rest. You have a lot to learn before we get into loup garous politics," Talia said with a smile. Lyka hesitated, but then smiled. _Loup garous_. The french term for werewolves... How crazy awesome did that sound?!

"Loup garous..." she repeated, wrapping her mind around the sound of it.

"Werewolves. I prefer the terminology from the old world. I am traditional that way, I was raised that way," Talia explained with a smile as she got up. "I'll tell Deucalion you're awake. Once you feel like it, I am sure he'll want you to meet the pack. A bit of... sniffing each other out, so we know what's what."

With these words, Talia left to rejoin the pack. Lyka watched her, her majestic way of walking, hips swaying. She was a remarkable woman, one a girl could just envy – or hope to one day be like. Even a little bit. A woman born to be a Queen. She was marvellous and compared to her, Lyka felt... small and insignificant. Even though she didn't really know anything about her, there was something majestic about Talia.

Lyka turned away with a frustrated sigh and then felt for the scars on her shoulder. She could barely see it in the dim light of the warehouse, but she felt it. It had healed marvellously in such a short time, but the symmetrical teeth marks of Deucalion's bite would remain as pale scars forever.

Eventually, Talia had rejoined the pack sitting by the fire. They were joking and laughing and teasing each other. She walked past them – past Statler teasing Waldorf about his lack of knowledge in computers and technology, past Susan kicking the remains of her last cigarette in the fire, past Abigail who had fanned out her long blonde mane on Paul's shoulder, playfully nibbling his neck, past Marco drinking a can of beer, and Liam who sat in his corner by himself, grumpy as ever – until she reached Deucalion who was sitting separate, overlooking the group.

He raised his head when he recognized her walk.

"How is she?" he asked instantly. Talia didn't immediately reply but sat next to him, facing the fire and the pack.

"She's fine. She's taking it well."

"I expected nothing less," he admitted.

"She's a McCall, did you know?"

He raised his brows to an admittedly surprised arc.

"She's _what_?"

Talia nodded.

"One of Donovan's grandchildren," she confirmed. "You didn't know?"

"No, I had no idea. I should have asked... But it explains her. Can you find out if she's the _True Alpha_?" he inquired.

"I will contact Deaton, he should be able to tell us if she's the one," she confirmed. Deucalion nodded.

"We need to know if she is a threat or an opportunity."

"If she _is_ the True Alpha... what will you do?"

"It depends. If she is with us, we will have an invaluable ally in her. If she is _not_ with us... we must kill her," he explained. He fell silent for the remainder of the night. He knew that was where it was going, knew there were only two options if she was in fact the Alpha the Druids spoke of. What he was not sure of was how far he could support the idea of killing one of his own. Oh he should have investigated first. Turning a McCall. Foolish. Very foolish...

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_So I was thinking about how Deucalion would approach turning someone into a wolf. I think nowadays he wouldn't care – he'd just go ahead and bite you and then probably kill you to get the power. But past Deucalion? Nice, cuddly, cute puppy Deucalion? I think he'd be a lot like Derek with Boyd, Isaac and Erica – informing them about it all, maybe a bit manipulative (come on, Derek totally manipulated Erica in that scene in the morgue, like anyone would turn THAT down...), but overall with their best interests at heart. And I also think if someone said no, he'd back off. Because I don't believe Deucalion was a born wolf, I think he was turned and I think he was probably turned against his will, like Scott. So he wouldn't want to turn anyone that didn't specifically ask to be turned._

_Yeah, I have no life. Tomorrow is Monday and that means I have to work so it might be a few days before I can upload the next chapter but who am I kidding it will probably be up by Tuesday night... Also, new episode coming up! Everyone excited?!  
_

_I am happy for reviews, critics, comments, suggestions, anything, just let me know ^^ _


	6. Family

**Family**

Four days. Still no news.

Olivia Anders stared at the empty bed where her best friend used to sleep. The last time she had seen her had been at that annoying club where she had just… run off mid-conversation. At first she had thought she had met someone. But it was not like Lyka _not_ to call her, let her know where she was and with whom. She called her once in the night, got no response, assumed Lyka didn't hear her and would call back when she saw she had missed the call. But when Liv got home to the dorm early in the morning hours (after a quite enjoyable walk of shame) and her best friend hadn't been there and still hadn't called back, she had called her again. No response. She called several times. Nothing. And then panic set in. She contacted literally everyone they knew, from physically knocking on the doors of each of their fellow students living in the dorm to going down their list of Facebook friends, trying to figure out if someone had seen her, if anyone knew where she might be. No one knew. And then, when she was all out of options, she contacted the Boston police. She sat through an endless process of filing reports and giving details, telling and retelling to different people when she had last seen Lyka, how she knew Lyka, how she would describe Lyka – like it MATTERED what she looked or dressed or talked like, like it made it any more or less terrible that she was missing! And then she waited. Her mind making things worse and worse – imagining Lyka tied up and gagged somewhere by some pervert or lying dead in a ditch, imagining all the terrible things that might have been done to her by now. Finally she was contacted by Lyka's family, picking her up from Uni exactly three days after Lyka's disappearance.

There was a lot of crying, mostly from Liv though.

Andrea and Cesar McCall were two very, very collected individuals, it had always mystified Liv how Lyka and her two older siblings could be so quirky and emotional with parents like these. Cesar was quarter-or-something Mexican, a tall, handsome man with dark hair, grey strands in it, blue eyes and dark stubble. He ran a restaurant in the city, a small Mexican place, very good but known mostly to them and their friends, not overly exposed to tourism. Andrea was African-American, a beautiful woman with dark skin, cat-like brown eyes like her two daughters, dark curls and full lips. She was a waitress in the very same restaurant, they had built it from scratch together. Lyka's older siblings, the twins Miguel and Inez, were not here. Inez was in Ireland as an au pair girl, watching after three ginger kids while getting neck-deep into ancient folklore, and Lyka had often joked that she would not be surprised if Inez returned after that year with flowers in her hair, sprouting fairy wings. Miguel on the other hand was into Baseball and played for some team in California Liv knew very little about. Neither of them knew their baby sister was missing.

Liv recalled watching Cesar and Andrea in a heated conversation outside, almost like an argument and it was the most emotional she had ever seen them. It ended with Cesar cursing in Spanish before making phone calls that looked a lot like he was calling _La eMe_ – she had always secretly suspected he was some kind of Mafia warlord or something…

Andrea joined her inside again, sat down next to her.

"Thank you for calling us, Liv, thank you so much," she said and when Liv broke down in tears apologizing, saying that she shouldn't have let Lyka out of her sight, that it was her fault, Andrea McCall gently put an arm around the young woman to comfort her. "You did nothing wrong sweetie, you couldn't have known. It will be alright, our little girl will be alright…"

Andrea looked up at her husband, who had his dark brows pulled down into a deep frown. It was as if they were exchanging a silent promise. Whoever had taken Lyka better be prepared, because these two were coming for them and that could not end pretty. Yes, Lyka had her differences with her parents. But there was never a question, never a doubt, that they loved her dearly and would probably turn into serial killers if something happened to her. Liv had the strangest feeling that whoever had taken Lyka should hope the police found them first, because if the parents did, it might not turn out to nice for them.

Suddenly, Cesar looked up, someone apparently had returned to the phone. He yelled something in Spanish Liv unfortunately didn't understand and ran outside again.

The McCall's drove her to the dorm and left her there. Liv stood alone, worried, confused, scared. And she did what she always did in stressful situations. She cleaned. Organizing things in boxes, making Lyka's bed, sorting her wardrobe, she even did the laundry. Lyka would probably make fun of her when she returned. _When_! Not if.

And time passed. A day. Two days. Three. A week. Two weeks…

* * *

Two weeks she had been 'running' with the pack. Two weeks, and she had not thought about her family and friends once. Because she was entirely too busy! The new life she had was _everything_! Everything and more! The entire world was so much richer now! The colours, the smells, the sounds! Everything was like Deucalion had described it and better! She was ecstatic, euphoric, felt how every day she got stronger with the moon waxing in the sky. She could feel it with every fibre of her being, much stronger than she ever had before and it fuelled her incredibly. She realised how much she had missed, how much more she was meant to be, she could have been, had she just been born a wolf.

Now she was training with Marco every day. The pack agreed that he was the best martial artist among them so he was usually the one to train them. Marco was 22, looked like a young God, so handsome it would normally make her melt into a puddle of sighs were she not completely and hopelessly infatuated with their Alpha. But Marco was also a damn tough trainer. He woke her up at unholy hours in the morning, jogging through the woods, then teaching her all sorts of techniques – mostly Krav Maga – that usually sent her to the floor every two minutes making her bruise and heal over and over, then two hours of kickboxing every evening. He said that was what they needed her for. 'Old wolves' like Waldorf, Susan, Paul and Deucalion frustrated him in training so he had always focused on the ones his own age and since Statler was terrible at it, that left Marco with Abigail and Liam. And since Abigail was mostly worried about chipping a claw, it was just Marco and Liam. And now Lyka. He rarely talked about Justin Sun, another member of the pack that had been killed in an event no one seemed to want to talk about.

That was the usual training with Marco and after these first two and a half weeks of being a wolf she was already fitter than she'd ever been.

But her best friend among the pack was Statler, there was no question to that. They got along marvellously and rather instantaneous, he was like an older brother and he treated her like the little sister he never had. He enjoyed her company because she was the only one who did care even a little for technology and science – even though she wasn't brilliant at it, she was always enthusiastic about his work and that was the sort of credit he rarely got from his best friend Waldorf. Who was also part of the package deal. The old wolf was a bit of a grump indeed and acted all tough and mean but underneath, he was a complete softy and treated Lyka like a child. Usually he only referred to her as 'Cupcake' and the three of them were basically inseparable. If she wasn't training with Marco, she was with them.

With Susan however, she did not get along all too well. Lyka would term the aging rock chick with ginger hair and tattooed arms as an admirable badass, were they not usually in each others hair the moment they were within thirty feet of each other. Susan patronised her. Lyka hated nothing more in the entire world than being patronised and the woman just called her puppy, didn't take her serious and believed she wouldn't even manage to get through her first full moon without breaking down. And Lyka was pissed off by her to no end.

Three times in the two weeks she was running with the pack now, she had gotten into a fight with Susan. Fights so bad that Deucalion himself had to break them up. Susan would yell at her that she was out of control, reckless, dumb, foolish, too young and would get them all killed, that the bite had been wasted on her. And Lyka would return that Susan was just realising that she – the new generation of wolves – were getting faster, stronger, better in every way than she had ever been. But what usually got them fighting was the mention of Deucalion in the first place. Because when Susan questioned _his_ choices, whether he was around to hear it or not, Lyka would usually freak out and attack. The rest of the pack mostly leaned back and enjoyed the show (Statler got them all popcorn once) but they all noticed that a divide was beginning to crack open. On the one side those that agreed with Susan – which were Marco, Paul and Abigail – and on the other, those that sided with Lyka supporting Deucalion. Those were Waldorf, Statler and – although silently so – Liam. Usually before a full-blown fight between the two sides could break out, Deucalion would interfere. He would warn both Susan and Lyka to sort their differences out or he would do it for them, his warnings usually left them both a little bummed for a while.

But in all honesty, he loved it.

He loved what Lyka did to the pack. She was dynamic, had a temper like most moonchildren had – wild, animalistic - but was at the same time fiercely loyal to him. He knew how much that was worth. And with the way she could influence the rest of the pack, her loyalty would inspire it in others. He knew he was forging a weapon out of this girl, deadly, precise, better than anyone he had so far. In time, she would be perfect.

And lastly, in the first week, Talia Hale taught her many things about being a wolf. The woman knew these things better than anyone in the pack, because she was born a wolf. Lyka learned that her first impression of the woman was not too far off, she was not only majestic, she was actually something like a Queen. Heir to a long, long legacy of born werewolves. She taught her about listening to her new instincts and sharpened senses, helped her learn how to use the new strength she had, even how to manoeuvre her body that felt new and different since the change. Before returning to Beacon Hills, Talia left her a set of instructions so she could improve. And from the Queen, she managed to get a few insights into 'loup garous politics'. She believed it was too early to introduce her to it all but Lyka had managed to get a bit of information out of her.

Apparently the Hale family were highly respected by all wolves in North America, a lineage of pure wolves, some even with the gift to fully shift into wolves, like Talia did, while the others apparently only turned into wolf-like creatures, like Deucalion. Talia, as Alpha of her family pack, was simultaneously a leader to a large alliance of packs all across the States. Her father was one of the most respected wolves in the world.

And, as it turned out, so was Lyka's grandfather. Talia explained to her that the McCall family apparently originated from a similarly long line of wolves from Mexico. The men of her family were _nagual_, warlocks who, according to mythology, had acquired the power to turn into vicious coyote's at night. But really, they were essentially werewolves. They were usually feared by the natives and nowadays the McCall's were still very influential in South America. Her father apparently was not born with the wolf and had therefore very little to do with the _nagual_ of their family, which explained why Lyka had hardly any memory of meeting her grandfather or any part of the McCall family; but his younger brother was a wolf and was the _nagual_ equal of an Alpha to them – a _Superior_. That was all she had been able to get out of Talia so far.

What Lyka still tried to figure out was the relationship between Talia and Deucalion. It was very, very hard to tell. Talia talked about her three children back in Beacon Hills because her eldest daughter, Laura, was Lyka's age. But Lyka could not figure out if they were Deucalion's children, if they were lovers, married, or just friends or business partners or whatever. They seemed close and he seemed to admire her. She watched him when he talked to Talia and there was a smile on his face that he had with no one else. His admiration was understandable. Talia was marvellous. But Lyka couldn't help the sting of jealousy because the wolf Queen received so much of his attention while she, in turn, saw very little of their Alpha in those weeks and the thought of him made her always look up, try to spot him.

So tonight as well. As they were all sitting in the warehouse, like they usually did every night, she was sitting between Statler and Waldorf – back leaning against Waldorf, legs across Statler's lap. Waldorf was discussion something with Susan but Lyka was just watching their Alpha. He sat alone. Before, Talia used to sit with him, but she had returned to Beacon Hills about a week ago, so he was alone. He seemed to prefer it that way, sitting where he could keep an eye on his pack. Or, in his case, more an ear.

Little did she know that he observed her very attentively. He didn't show it, didn't treat her any different from the others, mainly because he knew her family legacy now and it was something he would have to be careful with. The _nagual_ were not known to respond well if other wolves interfered with their business. They were the generally more brutal, traditional equivalent to the Hale alliance and he had made his personal, unpleasant encounter with a _nagual_ Superior a long time ago. If word spread he had turned a McCall daughter into a wolf, there would be repercussions.

But that didn't change the fact that she was extraordinary and he enjoyed observing her progress, just like his mentor had once watched him progress. He paid a great deal more attention to her than to any of his Beta's. He was often there when she trained with Marco – listening to her steps or letting Statler describe to him what happened. He described her as beautiful and elegant, like a dancer, smooth and fluid movements, it came easy to her. He also listened for her voice, filtering it out of the general noise of conversations in the pack. He knew how loyal she was, knew that she was right now probably his most devoted Beta. She defended him ferociously and he was convinced she would do anything he asked of her, without questioning him. He had given her very little reason for such loyalty, he knew that, no special treatment, no rewards. But he would let her know she was not going unnoticed.

So he raised his head.

"Princess."

He had started to call her that, but it was rare that he directly addressed her. So the entire pack froze for a moment in their conversation until Statler knocked Lyka's legs off his lap and she rose to leave the fire. The conversations continued, but the others were watching carefully as she approached their Alpha.

"Deucalion," she replied when she reached his side. It made him smirk. She said his name like the last line to a poem only meant to be huskily whispered into a lover's ear. In a way that was almost making it sound inappropriate to be spoken outside a much more intimate setting.

He reached out a hand in a small gesture so she could let him know where she was. She sat down by his side but a little below, placing his hand on her shoulder. The pack observed the scene attentively. A King and his Champion. She looked up at him, so much admiration in her eyes, devotion he would sadly never see.

"I have a number of errands to run in the city and need someone to accompany me. I thought you might enjoy getting out of here for a change. You haven't left since the night you accepted the bite."

His words made Marco look up sceptically.

"Am I not good enough anymore then, now that you have a pretty girl to drive you around?" he asked grimly. Deucalion rolled his eyes behind his glasses.

"Marco, she hasn't left the warehouse in two weeks, I think she deserves to get out of here."

"No one's forcing her to stay here…" Marco grumbled to himself. But Deucalion had focused his attention on Lyka again.

"What do you say, Princess?"

She hesitated a moment. And that was the first time she actually thought about what she had left behind.

"I… _should_ probably let my family and friends know I'm alive. So if I could do that… I'd very much like to accompany you to the city."

* * *

Said and done and without much ado, the next morning Statler ceremonially handed her the car keys. They got in the car and were on their way. It was a very quiet ride until Lyka eventually broke the silence.

"Did you… know my grandfather is a wolf? When you chose me, did you know?"

"I didn't. I must in all honesty admit had I known, I wouldn't have chosen you. Your grandfather and I…" he hesitated and that alarmed her, because it was not something he usually did. When she looked at him his features were difficult to read but she guessed he was... wondering whether or not to tell the truth or not? Eventually he settled for a "Never mind. Let's just say he and I had our disagreements. Find your family, tell them you're safe, that's what's important now. If you want… you can stay. As long as you return to the pack regularly, you don't _need_ to confine yourself to the warehouse. At least not right now. Full moon is a different story…"

"No. I am happy with the way it is. There's nowhere I'd rather be," _than with you_. She didn't say it out loud but he heard it in her voice. He leaned back in the car seat and concentrated on the sound of the engine, the sound of the world rushing by. They sat in silence long. She wondered how much he really knew of her grandfather. How much he didn't tell her.

By the time they reached the restaurant service entrance, she had already spotted her parents carrying restaurant supplies inside. When the old truck parked outside, they looked up confused but when they saw her leave the car, they both froze to the spot. No one moved, they just stared at each other. Unexpectedly, it was her older brother who ran towards her and hugged her violently, even lift her off her feet.

"M-Miguel, what the hell!"

"You stupid idiot, we were worried sick! Mom and Dad called me home from L.A. for this!" her brother declared, angry but so relieved. She heard the car door too late and only just saw her father had crossed over to the car impossibly quick, opened the door and had pulled Deucalion out by the collar of his shirt.

"You sick bastard how dare you touch my little girl?! You have no idea who you're messing with!"

"Dad!"

She had never seen her father this angry, he looked like he was about to turn into a wolf himself, had a fist already raised to hit Deucalion with it. But her mother stopped him.

"Don't! That won't change what has happened, Cesar. It is done."

"No! She's a _McCall_! He overstepped a line, he forced this on my little girl and he _has_ to pay for it!"

He knew. Lyka realised instantly. Her father knew. Knew what Deucalion was, knew what she had been turned into. There was only one thing he didn't know.

"Dad, I _let_ him. He didn't _force_ me to anything. I wanted this. I am sorry I made you worry, I wasn't being held, I just… I feel at home there, dad."

"No! It's not supposed to be like this! He's _not_ taking you, he will pay for this!"

Her father raised his fist again. And Deucalion snapped. It was the first time, the very first time she saw him lose control, and she had never been more terrified than in that moment. Because it was the moment she realised if he wanted to, if he _really_ wanted to, he could rip her father to pieces. Him and everyone else she cared for. The blind wolf roared, grabbed her father by the neck and threw him across the parking lot. Her father fell and Deucalion pranced forward in an attack, his claws were out, digging into her father's chest. He punched him once, her father's head snapped back and he gasped, blood spattered on the concrete, then Deucalion had his arm raised again, prepared to lash out and very well capable of ripping his face to shreds any moment. But he stopped suddenly. His teeth were bared and he growled.

"An eye for an eye, McCall. Tell him we're even now. He took my family, now I took his."

He let go of her father only when he felt her hand on his shoulder, gently pulling him away. He turned towards her and she noticed a long crack in his glasses. He stepped away from the family, back to the car and Lyka slowly turned to them. Her father sat up, wiping blood from his mouth. Her mother had her hands over her lips, worry and fear in her eyes. Her brother was in utter shock. She slowly shook her head.

"I came here to let you know that I was well and happy and you don't need to worry for me. I _belong_ there."

Her mother stepped forward, gaze fixed on the blind man.

"Lyka, you don't know what you're getting yourself into. You don't know him, you don't know what he will_ become_."

"I made my choice."

"You're blind! You're just as blind as he is!" her father yelled at her with a hand raised as if to hit her, making her flinch back. Only to find Deucalion next to her all of a sudden, like he had come out of nowhere. There was a moment of grim silence before her mother pulled her father away by his arm.

"If you chose him... you are no longer part of this family. Think about this very carefully, Lyka. If you follow him there is no way back for you. Never."

There, again, Deucalion bared his teeth and growled. But she held him back.

"No. There's no point," she said. Her voice was cracking, he heard it and it made him impossibly angry. One of his own was suffering and he had watched his pack suffer through too much to have another sad soul by his side. But as much as he wanted to rip the heart out of Cesar McCall's chest right now, he didn't. For her sake. He stepped back, got to the car and listened for her response to her father.

"You know... 18 years you thought it best to keep from me that we had werewolves in the family, that my weird sense for the moon was actually because I _should_ have been a wolf myself. He knew me for a week and knew I was unhappy and what he had to do to make me realise that I was meant for more. And you honestly expect me to choose you over him? You're the family I was born into and that means you will always be in my heart. But my pack is the family I _chose myself."_

She turned away and saw the quick, content smile on Deucalion's face, just before he got into the car.

"Lyka," she heard her brother, followed by a '_Don't._' from their father. So she left. She got into the car, started the engine and drove off. About two blocks, before she had to pull over. He heard her breath shake, suppressing the sobs.

"I am sorry this had to happen," he admitted. Because he was. No one should be forced to leave their family, no one was supposed to be cast out by them. Families were supposed to love and support each other, not judge each other for their nature. But he knew so very well how that felt. And the fact that she had just been cast out changed everything. She was no McCall, not really. She was part of his pack, she was his responsibility, his protégé.

She wiped silent tears away, then turned towards him with a frown.

"You said... he took your family. _Who_ took your family?"

"Your grandfather."

"Did he kill them?" she asked alarmed. He slowly shook his head. It took him a long time to respond but she could see he was struggling for words that would eventually come out.

"No. He... he was the one who bit me. I was just a child. When I turned... my family cast me out. They would have killed me, said I was unnatural, a monstrosity, I had to be put down like a rabid dog. So I ran. He... stripped me off any choice to have a normal life. Richard Hale, Talia's father, found me – a homeless, starving omega child – and took me in, raised me as one of his own. I am the man – and the wolf – I am today, because of him and his family," he explained. She listened, without interrupting him and eventually he turned towards her. "I never told anyone. No one except the Hale's know. But I know how you feel. I know how it hurts to be cast out. I could understand if you changed your mind and went back to your family. But if you choose the pack... I will be glad to call you my Beta, and anyone who tries to take you from us will pay."

"I'm not going back," she replied in a small voice. He smiled.

"Good."

They didn't deserve her anyways. He leaned closer, both hands on her cheeks, turning her to face him. His lips came to rest on her forehead, a gentle, sweet gesture, innocent, but meaningful. She had a place, she belonged. No one would ever take that from her. With his lips resting on her forehead, she closed her eyes, inhaled his rich scent, and for the first time didn't feel the silly infatuation. But honest, sincere affection. After a long while he pulled away and she started the engine again.

"We'll need to buy you some new glasses," she mentioned. He nodded and when she drove, he took off the cracked glasses, ran his finger tips over the cracks carefully, his brows in a worried frown. What had happened there? How had he cracked these? He couldn't quite recall it, just remembered the blank, white anger that had ripped through the darkness he had been caught in for the past weeks. It had all happened so fast, he had never lost control this way. Not since... not since his first full moon...

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_Okay, by now my headcanon is massive and I am not even sure how I will be able to squeeze it all in here! But let me just say I have the biggest plans for Scott's family! I mean, there must be a valid reason why Deucalion fears him so much. I am not sure it's just because Scott is a True Alpha – I think there must be something more and I will try to get that across in this fic ^^ So don't be surprised if there will be a lot of family tensions between the Hale's, Argent's and McCall's in chapters to come because they all have their history with Deucalion. _

_Short note today, because the chapter is the longest so far. Leave a review, don't be shy, I don't bite (often), even if you don't like it. Let me know what I can improve, what I should keep up, if you want me to focus on certain things more than on others... I am always happy to integrate feedback!_


	7. Confidant

**Confidant**

After the family meltdown, the day turned out to be pretty amazing.

They went into the city, got a new pair of shades for Deucalion and then ran his errands – mostly she just waited in the car and realised that was _exactly_ what Statler and Marco had done the day she had first met him. She was curious, but knew he probably wouldn't tell her anything anyways, so she just drove him around and when he declared they were done at around two in the afternoon, instead of driving back to the warehouse she almost literally kidnapped him to get ice cream near the harbour and from there guided him up to a roof. He didn't see it, she knew that, but he'd hear. The ocean, the work on the docks, the busy streets, the city alive on a nice summer day.

"Liv and I used to come up here when we were kids. People say if you listen closely you can actually hear the Sons of Liberty throw the tea into the harbour."

He laughed. They sat back to back, so she felt the laughter and it made her smile.

"History jokes, I like it."

She could practically hear his smirk in his voice. They sat up here for a while and it was a very pleasant afternoon. He had not expected that. Usually, when he was in the city with Marco or Statler, they'd take care of their business and would then return without much ado. But with her, it was different. He enjoyed her presence more than that of most people. It was comfortable. It felt like family.

"How's your ice cream?" she asked with her widest grin, so wide he didn't have to see it, he could hear it. He took another spoon of the chocolate drenched, creamy dessert. It tasted marvellous. He had, since he lost his eyesight, developed a small obsession with good food. The more intense the taste, the better. And especially chocolate. _Any_ variation of chocolate.

"It's fantastic."

"Best ice cream parlour in the city. Don't let anyone else tell you differently, they're lying. This place makes their ice cream in heaven," she declared. She had, with no reservations, taken four scoops – all sorts of chocolaty sweet things, salted caramel, and macadamia nuts, the amount she would have never been able to eat before but thanks to her faster metabolism since she had been turned to a wolf, she had no reason whatsoever to hold back.

After a while, she turned towards Deucalion. "You never told me how you became an Alpha. Talia said to become an Alpha, one has to either kill one, or – like it was for her – have to have it passed down to them from another Alpha in the family. Which was it for you?"

"Neither."

She blinked confused. He felt her sit up, the weight of her leaning against his back suddenly lifted. He heard her turn.

"What do you mean, neither?" she asked confused. He smiled, then sighed.

"There are very rare cases where one does not have to kill an Alpha or have to be appointed for it by blood. I was told people like me are very rare, the druids call it... a 'True Alpha'. Someone who becomes an Alpha out of their own will, an Alpha for... well, for their leadership quality and character."

She smiled because she could see he was uncomfortable talking that way. He was incredibly humble and she adored him for it. Because he was all that. He was an extraordinary leader – his pack looked up to him, even those that loved to argue. She knew Marco complained a lot, but she truly believed he would follow Deucalion to war if necessary. They all would. She would. In a heartbeat.

"Yeah... yeah I can see that," she admitted and was glad he was blind so he would not see the hopeless admiration in her eyes when she looked at him now. Nonetheless, he turned towards her.

"Tell me now, is there anything else you need to do in the city, before we return to the pack?"

"Yeah. I need to go to the dorm and tell Liv I'm alright. I am sure my parents will tell her but I want... I owe her to show up myself. And I'd like to do that before my first full moon."

"I agree."

They finished dessert and by the time they reached the dorm, the sun was already setting. Deucalion waited in the car while Lyka went inside. By the way her housemates looked at her she could tell her disappearance had caused quite the uproar. But she talked to no one. Barely greeted.

Normally she would have just stormed right into their room but now, she was reluctant. She was suddenly overcome with a very, very acute sense of guilt. Her best friend had probably been worried sick for her and she hadn't even thought of her once. Had been so preoccupied with training and running and joking with the pack, had been too busy swooning over Deucalion to even stop and think once what she did to Liv.

Finally she did knock.

"Yes?" came the question from behind the door.

"It's me."

There was a very long pause before she heard Liv get up, heard steps, then the door opened. Liv stared at her in utter disbelief. There she was, Lyka McCall, alive and well, looked healthy – a bit skinnier than two weeks ago, but healthy and actually... radiant. Like she had been on a long vacation. She was even wearing different clothes. Things she would have hardly put on before. Jeans leggings, a tank top and a leather jacket, sneakers – Lyka didn't even own sneakers! Her hair was different, too. No effort put into it, just carelessly tied together but still somehow shinier than usual. No shadows under her eyes, not even a single blemish on her skin. She looked like a revamped, more perfect version of herself.

"Where?! The hell?! Have you?! Been?!" Liv yelled at her the next moment and Lyka flinched, almost covered her ears.

"I am sorry. I am so sorry. I should have called you, I should have let you know where I was. I just... it was all a bit much."

"A bit much? A bit much?! I thought you were dead! I thought some crazy psycho had kidnapped you and raped you and cut you up in little pieces and buried you in the woods! I imagined the craziest, sickest shit had happened to you! Where the hell have you been god dammit!?"

Well, where had she been? Instantly, the fabricated lie Statler had given her came to mind: She had met a handsome stranger at the club, fell head over heels, eloped on a crazy road trip to Vegas, got married there, got divorced a day later when she was sober again, and had just come back from there. But Liv knew her. Liv would know that was utter bullshit. She sighed.

"You... are going to think I am crazy anyways..."

Liv grabbed her arm and pulled her into their room. Lyka noticed how clean and neat everything looked. Liv had been panic-cleaning. Her usual response to increased stress. Even her bed was made and her clothes neatly folded. There was a scent of strawberries, apples and mint in the air and it took Lyka a moment to realise that was what her best friend smelled like. Strawberry shampoo, the mint foot balm she used practically every day, and apples – her favourite fruit. A scent, as refreshing as Liv was a girl. She had to smile. Realising how comfortable this scent made her. Like it intuitively relaxed her because it was the scent of the one person she knew she could always trust. She turned towards her best friend.

"Tell me what's up. You know you can talk to me. And if you're pregnant, that's okay too! I'll be the fabulous lesbian aunt!"

"I'm not pregnant," Lyka declared, laughing. Although it would probably be a lot easier to digest a pregnant best friend than a friend turning into a wolf-like creature by the light of the full moon.

"What then? What could be so bad that it keeps you too busy for two weeks to tell me you were alright. ME! Lyka, I have _always_ had your back, ever since Middle School! And now you just disappear mysteriously and show up like nothing happened except you had a makeover or what?!"

"I'm a werewolf."

Liv fell silent. Lyka stared at her best friend with worry in her eyes. She had just blurted it out. Because making up a story or blabbering some nonsense would not do anyone any good. Honesty was usually the best way of doing these things with Liv, so she had gone right ahead. Now Liv stared at her with a blank expression on her face for several moments. Until the silence was almost unbearable. Then she reached for a flat brochure on her table – Lyka thought she read something about psychological support – and slapped her over the head with it.

"I made an appointment with the freakin' Uni therapist to get over this and you crack sassy jokes?! Screw you! Screw you sideways!" Liv yelled. Lyka gasped, stared at her in shock, and admittedly a little hurt. But what had she expected? She wouldn't believe her own words if she didn't know them to be true. She sighed frustrated.

"I know it sounds crazy! But..."

No, telling wouldn't help. She needed to show her. But she wasn't good enough with that yet. She couldn't control the shifting yet, she was still learning. But what she _could_ do was... heal. Her gaze wandered to the desk and to the scissors lying there. She sighed. "Okay, don't freak out. Or if you freak out, do it quietly, I don't want the whole dorm to know."

She grabbed the scissors and before Liv could even think of reacting she had cut herself deep in the palm. She pulled a face, suppressed a gasp of pain and forced down her reflex to pull her hand into a tight fist. Instead, she held the palm open, fingers spread wide away. Blood was running down her fingertips, dripping on the floor and Liv screamed out, grabbed a box of tissues to stop the bleeding. But by the time she got there, the cut was already closing. The bleeding had stopped altogether and they could watch the flesh knit itself back together. Liv stared at the closing cut.

"What. The actual. Frack."

"I told you, it's crazy."

"Holy shit. Holy... holy shit!"

"I know!"

"When? Wha-? How?!"

And forgotten was the terror she had gone through the past two weeks. Her best friend was back and she was invincible – everything else was secondary business right now. Liv put down the tissues, still staring from the healing cut to her friends face and back.

"Remember the blind guy a couple weeks ago in the library? Turns out he was a werewolf, thought I might be a good one too so he kinda stalked me. The night at the club, the drink I got with the symbol on the napkin? That was from him. I went to find him, he explained it all and... well I... I kinda agreed. I've been with him and his pack ever since, training how to be a wolf and all." Lyka summarised the events as quick as possible without breathing and Liv just stared at her, mouth agape.

"You're a werewolf? An _actual,_ real life, full moon monster _werewolf?"_

"Yeah."

"That is... so... freakin' cool!"

Of all the possible reactions she could have anticipated, this was the least likely. But it happened anyways. Liv jumped onto her desk chair, eyes still fixed on the cut that looked almost like an ordinary paper cut now and would soon be gone altogether. "But did you have to disappear for two weeks? Couldn't you have called and let me know you were fine?"

"I... honestly I was..."

Liv raised a brow, seeing the well known guilty face of her best friend.

"He's hot, isn't he?"

Lyka looked up irritated. "That blind dude. I don't remember him that well but I do remember that he was hot for an older guy. You forgot about me because of a hot, blind werewolf," the blonde declared matter-of-factly.

"I'm sorry."

Liv stared at her, impossible to read for a moment, then she shrugged.

"Mehhh, I would have done the same for a hot, blind she-wolf."

And without even wanting it, because she should feel guilty for making her friend worry so long, almost driving the girl insane with worry, Lyka burst out laughing. Like she only could around Liv, only would with her best friend. And Liv joined. She jumped off her chair again and rushed closer to hug her best friend and they stood like this for a long time, even fighting back a few tears, both of them. "I'm just so damn happy your okay," Liv eventually declared.

"And I am so damn happy you don't think I'm a freak."

"I do really want to see you wolf out, though."

Lyka laughed and nodded.

"As soon as I know how to control that, you'll be the first to see."

"Yeah, because your blind hottie sure won't."

"Shut up!"

"Why, not like he can hear me," Liv replied with a shrug, then gasped. "Or can he? Is he here?! OMG!"

She jumped to the window, looking out at the road in front of the dorm. Lyka joined her and saw the car she had parked there. Deucalion had left it and was now leaning against it, hands resting on his cane calmly, he wasn't moving, like a statue again.

"Yeah, he can hear us," she confirmed. Immediately, Deucalion's head shot up towards their window and a smirk appeared on his lips.

"Yo! My friend thinks you're really hot!" Liv yelled. And before Lyka cloud drag her away from the window she could still see Deucalion laugh. Liv was giggling, teasing her how she had turned bright pink.

After that, Lyka packed a few of her things, explaining to Liv that she would stay with the pack until she had been through her first full moon – or until she could be certain that she wasn't a threat to anyone. Liv didn't object. Told her she'd make up a convincing lie to the University for her continued absence. And about an hour later, Lyka returned to the car. Deucalion was still waiting outside.

"Seems nice, your friend," he said with an almost dirty smirk on his face.

"Shut up," Lyka declared, blushing. He chuckled and it made her smile a little. They got into the car, she tossed her overnight bag on the backseat and they were off, leaving Boston in the last light of the day.

* * *

"Oh, thank you!"

Talia laughed happily when her youngest daughter, nine-year-old Cora, placed a crown of pale white flowers with soft, yellow tips on her dark hair. Cora, sweet little Cora, was the spitting image of her father. While Laura and their brother Derek shared Talia's smile and features, Cora was much more like her father.

The two older children were out. At school for their extracurricular things – Derek playing Basketball in hopes of being the new Peter Hale, Laura in her debate club. Talia and Cora were alone, awaiting the arrival of 'grandpa'. It was not until they heard the car outside that Talia tensed. She watched little Cora run towards the main entrance of their family home.

"Grandpa, grandpa!" she called, excited like the quirky, cute little puppy she was as she opened the door. Richard Hale laughed when he took his grandchild in his arms and she hugged him.

"Hello sweetheart."

"Cora, darling... would you go upstairs and play in your room for a bit?"

Talia watched as her father set the girl down and she rushed towards her mother. She leaned down to kiss her little girl's hair, then watched her run upstairs and into her room. She knew nothing of the tensions in their world at the moment, nothing of the events nearly two months ago, the horrible escalation of their ancient war against the Hunters. She didn't need to know. She was so young, Talia hoped to shelter her from this nonsense as long as she could. Maybe by the time Cora was old enough to have to worry about it, there'd be no more war, maybe by then Deucalion's vision would have come true. It was what she was fighting for, what she would gladly follow him for.

Richard watched until the girl had disappeared in her room, then turned towards his daughter.

"How is he?"

"Doing remarkably well. And he has no intention of giving up his efforts for peace."

Richard smiled weakly as he led Talia into the parlour.

"Typical. Stubborn boy," he said with fondness in his voice. But he saw worry on Talia's face. "There's more."

"He turned a girl. A McCall."

Richard raised his brows.

"What?!"

It wasn't anger in his voice. Not yet at least. But she knew it could well go there. With all the history between the families, a McCall was the very last thing they needed.

"A girl, just a normal girl. She's the granddaughter of Donovan, probably on the side where no wolves were born. Deucalion didn't know who she was when he turned her, she accepted the bite by choice. I met her, talked to her, watched her. She's a natural, it is in her blood."

Richard sat down while she talked and she could see in his face how his thoughts were rattling. He was weighing the options to go from here. What to make of this information? She was worried for a moment that he would see this as a threat, as treason by Deucalion. But what he actually saw scared her perhaps even more.

"Could she become a _nagual_?"

"She... if she completes the initiation, I guess it's... possible. But the _nagual_ won't let her, she's a woman, they don't think women are suitable."

"Only because they have not had she-wolves so far."

"Father..."

"Don't you see the opportunity, Talia? Donovan's granddaughter, a wolf, and sired to one of our alliance. If she were to pass the initiation rite of the _nagual_, become a full member of their culture... we could unite wolfkind like it never happened before."

"Deucalion hates Donovan McCall passionately. He would never agree to this. And she's his Beta."

"We will _make_ him agree then!" Richard insisted firmly. Talia flinched.

"Father."

"We let him know that if he wishes to involve the alliance in his negotiations with the Argent's, we will do so under the condition that he helps us establish this bond with the McCall's."

She didn't approve and he could see that. He walked towards her, leaning on his cane, but his normally dark eyes under wild, white brows, flashed menacing red for a moment. "Have you forgotten your place?"

"No. It's just... I don't think _this_ is what he would want."

"Then he forgot his place as well. _He_ serves the alliance. _His pack_ serves the alliance. If this girl is part of his pack, _she_ serves the alliance and she will do as the alliance commands or they will have to suffer the consequences."

"Consequences? What are you going to do, go against his pack?" Talia asked sceptically.

"If that's what it will come to."

"In all due respect, but Deucalion's pack would rip the alliance to pieces. It doesn't matter how many packs we'd send to get them, they'd prevail. Because they have _him_. You know better than anyone else that he's special. You knew the moment you took him in. It is _why_ you took him in in the first place. You don't stand a chance against Deucalion."

The next moment, he had grabbed her neck, pressed her against the wall. Talia's eyes flashed red and she bared her teeth, roaring at him furiously as she pushed him away. The quick steps on the first floor was what made them both pull back. Talia drew her claws in when she spun around, heard steps on the stairs.

"Mommy?"

Cora looked through the small gap in the parlour door shyly. Richard had turned away, hiding his fury by looking out the window.

"Everything is alright, sweetie. Go back upstairs."

Cora hesitated but then nodded a little and disappeared. They listened for her steps on the staircase, on the way to her room. Finally Talia turned towards her father. They stood in silence for a long time until he sighed.

"You are right. He is too powerful. And it's my fault really. I raised him to be King, now I shouldn't be angry that he became one."

"I will explain what you would like to see happen, perhaps he will agree with you, maybe he will see it your way. But I will not threaten him."

Richard nodded weakly at his daughters words.

"If possible... I'd like to meet this McCall child."

Talia nodded. She hoped this entire situation would calm itself down. She knew Deucalion wouldn't allow one of his Beta's to become a killer, even if it was for the greater good. And right now, she wasn't even sure if it _was_ for the greater good, or just to satisfy her father's curiosity in the possibility of a female _nagual_. It looked like she would be returning to Boston much sooner than anticipated...

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_This is a bit of a filler-chapter ^^ I really wanted Puppy!Cora in there and I wanted to show a bit of the interaction between Lyka and Liv. Liv is to Lyka basically what Stiles is to Scott and I'm a little bit in love with her - i always grow way too attached to my OCs. _

_Hope you enjoyed this somewhat more humourous chapter. Leave a review or two and look out for the next chapter soon! _


	8. Transformation

**Transformation**

She was usually agitated during the day of the full moon. But today? Today she was even worse. Aggressive, nervous, her temper was all over the place. Marco was first to suffer under it. She was cranky to him during training – consequently he was cranky back to her. By the time they returned from their morning run, he was yelling at her, making Deucalion raise his head when they returned to the warehouse.

"What seems to be the problem?"

"Your new bitch is the problem! Thinks she's all high and mighty and better than everyone else! I am sick and tired of this. She's all yours!"

Marco tossed off his training shirt and disappeared somewhere to cool off.

"Oooohhhh big words! I would be insulted, if it didn't come from a whiny little dog!" Lyka called after him. They heard him slam a door in the distance. She turned towards Deucalion, who was sitting in his usual corner of the warehouse, his fingertips gliding over the pages of a book. His elbows were now leaning on his knees and his face was turned towards her with an eyebrow sharply raised. "Oh don't give me that look!"

"I'm not giving _any_ look."

"You know _exactly_ what I mean. It's not my fault he can't handle a bit of competition," she growled.

"That's what this is about? You're challenging our premium fighter?"

She scoffed.

"Please. I could wipe the floor with him if I wanted to."

He smirked and closed his book.

"Cocky. The full moon speaking, I guess. Marco is an excellent warrior, even if he may not let it on. That's what gets people killed. Don't make the mistake to underestimate an opponent just because he acts vulnerable. "

"Like, say, a blind man?"

She was closer. He could feel her proximity, the warmth coming from her skin, the scent she gave off... it was stronger today, probably also because of the moon, hormones running wild. She was an animal right now, tonight would be even worse. Once the moonlight hit her, she'd be out of control. Susan was bringing the equipment to chain her up. It wouldn't be pretty, but it would be more than necessary. It would be essential to her survival.

"Yes, like a blind man. Or do you think you could challenge _me_ as well?"

"I had other things in mind for you."

She moved ever closer. Her voice a sultry whisper now. She didn't even know what was wrong with her. Fighting with Marco earlier, the pull of the moon she could feel in every goddamn cell in her body. And Deucalion smelled so good! She licked her lips, wanted to touch him, his hair, his shoulders. She wanted to pull his clothes off him right now, feel him, taste him, fill all her senses with him. But she had barely reached out a hand when he attacked, completely unexpected. He grabbed her wrist, twisted her arm in a manoeuvre bordering on brutal, with his cane he forced her knees to bend and she gasped when her feet lost contact to the ground and she was on her way down, falling backwards. But he caught her, perfectly in control, letting her fall still, but much softer and slower than she probably would have and with his free hand he gently held her head so she wouldn't hit it on the stone floor. He was leaning over her, so close that she could feel his breath on her face. So close, with his arm still wrapped around her, forcing her wrist on her back, he supported himself with his elbow, his hand still in her hair. He could tell he hurt her arm by the way she was arching her back towards him, trying to ease into the pain. He could feel her heart racing, chest heaving, breathless with surprise. She let go of a husky breath. "I must admit, this is a bit of a turn-on."

He smirked.

"I'm old enough to be your father, Princess."

"I am _not_ your Princess."

"You underestimate your opponents and overestimate your own skills. You're a long way from 'wiping the floor' with Marco. You will get there, eventually. But if I wanted to hurt you, you'd be dead right now."

He loosened his grip of her wrist so she could free her arm. And before he could actually predict her actions, she had wrapped that now free arm around his neck and pulled him towards her, her lips crushing on his, fierce and hungry. And for a moment, just a moment, he gave in. Because it felt good. It felt inappropriately right to have her under him, her body pressed against his. The way she ran her fingers through his hair. The way her lips felt on his, the way she tasted – a bit salty, but strongest was... chocolate, of course. It was a breathless kiss, a battle almost, and she was luring something out in him that he had only rarely – if ever – allowed to take control. Even if it was just a brief moment before he grabbed both her wrists, pulled them away to free himself and had pinned them on the ground over her head, effectively disarming her. "And this is about as far as we'll take it."

"Spoilsport," she sighed in frustration and rolled her eyes dramatically. But it hadn't left him cold. She could sense it. He had responded, he had kissed her back. And... she was quite sure she tasted blood right now. Tracing her tongue over her lower lip, she could feel a small rip in the skin, a small bite. Oh yes he had been more than just a little responsive. Still, he had himself under remarkable control. He let go of her wrists and stood up, pulled her to her feet with him.

"You're senses are heightened. _All_ of your senses. Your body and mind are running wild. Everything you used to feel during the full moon before has been amplified now. I will attribute this... outburst to the fact that you are currently not really in control of yourself."

He smirked, leaned closer and ran a fingertip over her lips. "I'll do you a favour and pretend this never happened."

He was on his way back to find his book when her words caught him.

"So you'll pretend you didn't enjoy it. Fine by me," she said coolly, obviously hurt by the rejection, threw her hair back and marched away. He didn't respond. Didn't turn towards her. He let the words sink in. Well, wasn't that an epic lie he was telling himself? Of course he had enjoyed it. Why wouldn't he? What kept him from taking what she so willingly offered? But there was always that last glimpse. That diabolic smirk of the white-haired hunter, leaning over him, arrows in his hands. The memory was physically painful. He crouched down like a wounded animal, defensive even though he was alone. Or _because_ he was alone. Teeth gritted to suppress the pain of the memory. He felt it, shockingly real – the fire in his eyes, he could even smell the burning flesh, felt the blood on his face.

He knew what this was. He knew this itch to claw his own eyes out all over again was a trauma. Probably, if he could go to a psychiatrist with his complaints, he would be diagnosed with post-traumatic stress. But there was no one he could talk to. He hid it when the others were around. In front of the pack he held it together, he was himself, controlled, calm, he had to be their strength. But when he was alone... when no one was there, he was losing it and he knew it. He was alone in the dark and it was consuming him, tearing him apart. He had lost the connection. He was alone. There had been a time when he had been absolutely certain he would never be alone. But that was gone. He was lost, and scared, and was falling into the darkness.

* * *

The sun was setting when Susan and Waldorf arrived with a large, heavy case. The rest of the pack had retreated, only Deucalion, the two oldest wolves and Lyka were left at the warehouse. In a remote room with thick walls and heavy doors did they open the case and pulled out the chains. Lyka watched them, arms crossed over her chest, a nervous tingling in her fingers. Those were a lot of chains. Really, a lot. And mean bolts and screws and -

"Whoa, where the hell does THAT go?!"

"On your head." Susan replied with a grin – the older she-wolf was enjoying herself way too much. Lyka grumbled.

"When I said I didn't want to be your Princess but your Queen, I didn't mean it quite so literal."

Deucalion took the spiked ring from Susan while Waldorf was already getting busy with the chains, cuffing her securely to the wall.

"Sorry 'bout that, Cupcake. If there was another way..." he apologised repeatedly in a low voice and avoided her gaze. She could see he felt horrible about this. Maybe she had underestimated this whole full moon situation gravely.

"What keeps you grounded during the full moon is pain. It keeps you aware, it keeps you alert, it keeps the beast from taking over. Women have a much higher tolerance for pain. It's in your nature. Any man who says differently is a fool. But that means that in order to hold a she-wolf down during the full moon, much more pain is needed."

"Yeah but do you have to crack my skull open. I mean... you do intend to screw these bolts into my head."

"It'll heal. There will be no permanent damage. Tell her, Susan."

"We all went through it, puppy."

Deucalion nodded, then inspected Waldorf's work.

"Good. Get out, you two."

"We'll be just outside the door. If you need help, just call."

Lyka watched the two of them leave. Waldorf glanced back one last time before he pulled the heavy steel door shut and she heard the lock click in place. She was left in silence with their Alpha.

"You're staying?" she asked in a small voice. He heard it. Her confidence was waning. Perhaps for the very first time she sounded like the vulnerable young girl she really was. For the first time she showed that all the bravado she put on was really just a mask she used to hide how insecure she was about this new skin of hers. He turned towards her, reached for her face and when he found it, gently placed the metal ring on her head like a crown. The bolts were still loose but she could feel the unpleasant scratching of metal on her scalp. The chains holding down her shoulders were heavy, the cuffs on her wrists and ankles bit uncomfortably into her skin, she was even collared around the neck.

He placed one hand on her cheek, the other on her shoulder. His thumb was tracing the soft scar of where he had bitten her, the one scar that she would forever keep.

"I'm not leaving you. I'll talk you through this. And through the next full moon. And the next. Until you can do it on your own."

His voice was warm and soothing, soft like velvet and that was just what she needed right now. He leaned closer and placed his lips on her left cheek, then the right. A gentle, brief touches, like you would kiss a child goodnight. Then his voice was stern again. "Do you remember the things Talia taught you."

"Find an anchor, yes. But she said I would be too overwhelmed during the first full moon."

"It will be tough. Between the beast and the pain there will be hardly anything of you left. But that, that little bit that will still be you, that is what you will have to hold on to. It can be a memory, a feeling, anything. It is what grounds you. It is not an anchor yet, but as you progress you will learn to cling to it, hold on to it and it will allow you to stay yourself when the moon calls you."

He turned towards the one window in the room. She knew he felt it, much like she did. He didn't have to see the faint white glow that drew a line on the dusty floor now and would soon fill the room. But she did. Moonlight. There was a distant howl somewhere, One of the wolves from the pack, probably. And the light was wandering towards them. Slowly. She could feel it. It was like she could actually feel the moon wander in orbit and the closer the light got, the louder she heard it scream in her head. She gritted her teeth, her hands clenched to fists, fingernails digging into her own flesh and the sting of it helped her focus.

"Tell me what really happened to your eyes."

He raised his head and for one strange, brief moment it was as if their gazes met, although she knew that wasn't possible.

"You really have other things to worry about right now," he replied with a smile.

"I want to know. It wasn't an accident, was it? No one talks about it. I figured it was your story to tell."

He was silent for a long time before he smiled again.

"A very bitter man did it to me. A very sad... angry... bitter man. He refused to see the opportunity for peace and instead... felt like taking my vision from me. We are now both blind men, each in our own way now."

"You sound like you actually sympathise with him."

Still that smile. A sad smile, a wounded smile.

"I wouldn't go that far. But I know how he was raised. Raised to hate everything we are. I suppose... just because I was granted the opportunity to see doesn't mean all of us are."

She thought about his words a long time. Brows in a frown. It sounded... the way he said it, it sounded like...

"It sounds like you're talking about family. Was... was the man who did this to you... was he family?"

He came closer, still smiling.

"I'll tell you. Someday. Right now you have other things you should worry about. I am truly sorry for this."

She felt blood drip from her hands. She had been so focused on the conversation that she had not even noticed how her claws had drawn blood from her palms. The moonlight was reaching her, pulling at her skin, awakening something in her. Something crawling underneath her skin, trying to claw its way out. A strength, a hunger, a _beast._ Deucalion's shadow kept it at bay for a moment, but the pull of the moon got stronger, unbearable. What pulled her back into herself was the pain. Just like he had predicted. Deucalion had begun screwing the bolts of her metal crown tighter, they were breaking skin, piercing flesh. She felt blood stream down her temples, her scalp, hot and wet. And she was quite sure she was screaming in pain. It was excruciating. Her vision had turned white with pain and fury and she heard her jaw crack a little as she screamed. She tried to free herself, struggling against the chains holding her down. Her muscles clenched, the metal collar digging into her skin, the cuffs scraping painfully. She felt like every single bone in her body was breaking. She struggled, tried to free herself, tried to rip her burning skin off her bones to let loose whatever beast was roaming inside her. And somewhere, somewhere far away she heard the voice of her Alpha, soft whispers, like the night he had bitten her.

_It'll get worse, before it gets better._ He had been right. This was worse. Much, much worse. The feeling of being trapped, contained, when all she wanted was to break free of that prison that was er body and these chains. Inside her was a battle, of pain against the ecstasy trying to take over. But she could feel his presence. Through it all, she felt that he was there. Her screams cracking through the night, half agony, half animalistic howls. But she was still there. Because she held on. Not so much to herself, but to him. In the blinding white of the pain she was so completely and entirely aware of, she focused on him. The thing that grounded her. She tried to gold on to him, and to everything else that was still her. The smell of strawberries and apple and mint. Liv. The lyrics to her favourite song, not even in order, just how they came to mind ('_I will take a ride up to the moon and eat myself a stranger / It's not so bad once I get past the taste / Nice day for a murder / I wore white to your murder..._'). White, painfully bright white around her. Howling. Howling in the distance, strange, ecstatic, terrifying. Hunger, so much hunger. So much pain. So much.

And then nothing.

She struggled long. But eventually she calmed down. Perhaps it was the exhaustion, perhaps it was her mind beating her instincts. He listened to her breath calm, her heartbeat steady. Almost like she was asleep. She was doing well. Not that he had expected anything less from her, really. But he had been prepared for more of a fight. Carefully he walked closer, reached the wall. With steady hands, he felt for the chains in the wall. There were cracks. It was a miracle she hadn't torn the entire wall down. She was strong. Incredibly strong. A proud smirk crept onto his lips. She could be Queen. She _should_ be. She was as fierce and magnificent as Talia was, in her own way. It would not surprise him in the least if she was the True Alpha the druids spoke of, the one that was to come and end the war.

The pack howled somewhere in the distance, not too far off. They stuck around, to be sure everything was fine. He could still sense the presence of Waldorf and Susan outside the door, guarding. Wolves themselves now but ever present, making sure nothing got in and nothing got out. Those were the moments he remembered he wasn't alone after all. The full moon still reassured him. No matter how dark and lonely he felt, his pack was there. He wasn't alone.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. For the record, the song lyrics Lyka recites in her head are from 'Nice Day' by The Romanovs._

_It's a weekend, but it's so very, very hot here and writing goes a bit slow... I might be able to finish the next chapter tomorrow, but I can't promise it. It might be Monday - since there's also going to be the big announcement for the 12th Doctor, so I might be a bit preoccupied tomorrow. But I might put a 'preview' or something on my tumblr. _

_Would love to hear how everyone likes it, I like getting feedback ^^ so don't be shy, leave reviews or message me, whichever you like._


	9. Alliance

**Alliance**

"No!"

He was yelling and it made them all flinch.

The full moon had passed without much trouble, but after that, trouble had come to find them. In the form of Talia Hale, arriving with unpleasant news she wished to share with no one but Deucalion. They had retreated to a separate room in the warehouse and had not come out there since, but with every passing minute, they were arguing louder. The pack didn't know about what – that was the part in the beginning of the conversation they had missed out on – but by now, they were screaming at each other. And that was something that didn't usually happen. Neither Talia nor Deucalion were known to lose their temper, least of all with one another.

Lyka sat among her friends in the pack. Statler was surprisingly unimpressed and was instead programming some game on his notebook. Waldorf on the other hand looked worried. She saw it in his face and it meant a lot if the usually collected and positive Waldorf looked so agitated.

Now it sounded like someone had actually thrown something around.

"Seriously, I'm going in there," Lyka declared and got up. The pack shot up alarmed.

"You can't!" Susan protested.

"This is none of our business. Let the Alpha's settle this," Paul insisted.

"Bullshit. They'll rip each other's throats out and we don't even know about what," Lyka protested. And in that moment, the door flew open. Deucalion marched out, stepped aside and gestured to Talia, inviting her to leave.

"Deucalion," she said calmly.

"No, Talia. I will not let this happen. If Richard want's to fight me over this, tell him he can try."

She sighed. Lyka watched the two of them attentively. Deucalion looked angry. She had never actually seen him so angry. Not even when he had attacked her father. And she had never expected him to be this angry with Talia, of all the people. She knew how much he cared for her, but right now, he was just a few breaths short of baring his teeth and growling at her furiously. Talia sighed and slowly shook her head. She reached to touch his arm, he flinched away a bit but didn't snap at her, although the pack was quite sure that took a lot of restraint. She let go of him and turned to leave.

Suddenly she was aware that the entire pack was staring at them. She squared her shoulders, put up her chin and walked by them. Behind Lyka, she stopped and placed a hand on her shoulder. Lyka looked up confused and met the dark green eyes of the Wolf Queen.

"Talk sense into him. If he'll listen to anyone on this matter, it's you," Talia said. Lyka was at a loss of words and before she could respond, Talia had straightened again and walked away. By the gates of the warehouse, she turned back towards Deucalion. "I'll be in town for a few more days, in case you change your mind."

"I won't," Deucalion barked back. She turned and left. The pack looked after her, then simultaneously turned around towards their Alpha.

"Care to enlighten us what just happened there, Boss?" Waldorf asked, one bushy brow raised sceptically.

"It's nothing you must concern yourselves with."

"You just told her to tell the King of all Wolves that he can come fight you over something. I think that concerns all of us. If tomorrow the alliance shows up at our doorstep to put us all down because of something you did, I think we should know," Marco insisted.

"This has nothing to do with the pack or the alliance. This is about Richard and me. So no, there is no reason for you to know, Marco," Deucalion growled, his eyes glowing red behind his glasses. It made Abigail and Paul pull back. Statler crouched over his computer, pretending everything was fine. Lyka however got to her feet.

"What about me? Talia told me to talk to you, what about? Was this about me?!"

Deucalion looked up, his shoulders dropped. As if she had asked the _one_ question he had hoped to avoid.

"Not everything is about you," Marco growled, rolling his eyes.

But Deucalion was suspiciously quiet. She frowned and climbed over the bench, walking towards him.

"Talk to me, Deucalion," she insisted. He took off his sunglasses and rubbed his eyelids exhausted.

"Fine. Let's talk," he eventually said and nodded towards the door. Lyka hesitated. She had honestly not expected he'd go for it. He wasn't exactly known to overshare on the 'political' things with the pack. But apparently she had more to do with this than she believed.

He could feel her walk past him and closed the door behind them, locking out the curious eyes - and, more importantly, ears - of the pack.

She had never been in what they jokingly called 'his office'. It was really just a larger, mainly empty room with a few old chairs and a desk that was close to falling apart. The windows were mostly broken and the sun cast dusty light in here. He didn't need his cane in here, he knew this room by heart. He found a chair, offered it to her but didn't sit down himself. He was pacing and she just watched him while she sat down quietly. When he didn't talk, she eventually broke the silence.

"What is this about?"

"How much has Talia told you about _loup garous_ politics?"

"Not much. Not enough apparently."

He growled. He was incredibly agitated! She had never seen him like that. Like a tiger in too small a cage, being poked with sticks. Still she didn't feel threatened. Because his anger wasn't towards her. It seemed to be towards everyone _but_ her. Finally he sighed and pulled himself a chair as well.

"Has she told you about the Argent's?"

"Er… no, that name didn't come up."

"Has she told you about hunters?"

"Yes! Yes she mentioned hunters!" Lyka declared. He nodded.

"Well, the Argent's are a very well-known family of Hunters. There are a lot of families hunting the supernatural, the Argent's have specialised and perfected in the art of killing werewolves. They have been plaguing our kind for generations. It is a war fuelled by constant vendetta – a hunter is killed; his fellow hunters avenge him by killing a pack. A wolf is killed; his pack avenges him by going after hunters. A few weeks ago… I attempted to establish a truce between the Argent's and werewolfkind. With very little success as you can see," he explained and pointed towards his eyes.

"A hunter did this to you. One of the Argent's?"

"Gerard Argent. He's a man who does not believe in peace. He does not believe that people can change their nature. He believes ultimately murder is in the nature of the werewolf. I see his side of things… but…"

"How did it happen?" she asked. The same question she had asked last time they had spoken. Had it really been days since the full moon? Her voice was sincere. She really wanted to know. Because she believed it would help her understand. He sighed.

"We met in an abandoned distillery to negotiate the truce. I was there with Marco and… two others. Argent brought two of his hunters. But he wasn't there to negotiate. He was there to kill. He gassed us, killed two of my Betas and his own hunters because they, too, believed in the possibility of peace. He considered them weak and naïve and believed he did his family a favour by getting rid of them. I made it out alive but he caught up with me. Slammed two flash arrows in my eyes. I guess he was counting on it killing me, when it didn't he spread the word I had ambushed the meeting and killed his men. Threw our negotiations with the hunters back by years."

While he spoke, her hand had wandered to her lips, shaking. She couldn't imagine it. The agony, the horror. How it must feel to look death in the eye like that and then seeing… nothing. And the two Beta's he had lost… those had to be the ones no one in the pack ever talked about. Sun and Carter.

She wanted to reach for him, comfort him in any way but wasn't sure how. So her hand stayed suspended in mid-air, undecided whether she should touch him or leave it be, because nothing she did could possibly make it better. When he sighed loudly, she quickly pulled her hand back, retreating, staying quite. "Anyways! I have no intention of letting the chance at a truce pass. I am hoping to get the Matriarch of the Argent family to listen to me. The Argent's train their men to be warriors, their women to be leaders. Their current leader is Allison Argent. She's Gerard Argent's sister in law, married into the family from one of the three great hunter families of Europe. She has been in charge for as long as I can remember. It was foolish of me to go through Gerard with these negotiations. This time I will not make this mistake. I was hoping to get the support of Richard Hale for this. Chances of her appreciating our effort will be much higher if the King joins us."

"But… if the hunter, this Gerard, said you ambushed them… won't she believe him? Why should she believe you."

He fell silent. She realised he had not been done with his excursion into politics but this question had brought him to a full stop. He struggled for words, wringing his hands nervously. Not something she was used to see him do. Ultimately he settled for a vague answer.

"I know her. She'll listen. She _owes_ me to listen. The point is… Richard Hale will support the negotiations under one condition. And that's where you come in."

"Me? What does the King of all Wolves need me for?"

"He doesn't need you at all. What he wants is your family connection."

She gasped. Of course. The _nagual_. Talia had told her that her family were well known among the wolves, well respected.

"The _nagual_."

"The _nagual_. The thing is, you are not a _nagual_. You have no claim to their decisions, you can't make them pledge their allegiance to the Hale alliance. Unless… you are initiated. _That's_ what Talia came here to ask of me. To send you to the _nagual_ for the initiation rite."

"And what does that mean exactly."

"The _nagual_ initiate their Beta's in a traditional hunt during the full moon. It's an ancient ritual, very archaic, very bloody. The initiate is required to bring their Superior an organ of their prey to be accepted among the pack. The more vital the organ the higher the rank of the new wolf in the pack."

She twitched in her chair. She could almost taste the problem.

"This… _prey_ they're hunting…"

He raised his head and she could see in his face how bad this tasted for him as well.

"Humans."

She let go of the breath she had been holding. She had somehow expected it but hearing him say it didn't make it any better. "I told them I wouldn't let you do that. I am not turning you into a killer just so they can expand their influence."

"But then your peace negotiations will fail," she pointed out. He shook his head.

"That's not the point. There's another way, there has to be," he growled.

"What? What way? You've tried. You failed. It sucks. But now you have an opening, you have a way to get the Matriarch to listen to you. If my killing someone is what it takes to make that happen… you know, maybe you found me for a reason. Maybe you found me so that I could do this for you."

He heard her get up and it made him lean back. He looked up when he felt her hands on his face and he never wished for his eyesight back as much as he wished right now. Never wanted to see someone so badly as he wanted to see her. "Let me do this for you," she whispered.

He smiled. Oh what had he done? What had he turned her into? She was just a girl, she shouldn't worry about things like that and she should most certainly not be so willing to do anything he could possibly ask for. Certainly if it meant killing someone. He had admired her loyalty before, now he was… humbled by it, but also scared by how far she was willing to go. By what she was prepared to do for him. He raised a hand to touch her face, just a swift brush of his fingertips on her cheek.

"Thank you for offering this, I appreciate it. But I can't let this happen. Killing someone, it changes you. And I won't let you do this."

He placed his hand in her neck and gently pulled her closer, until his lips came to rest on her forehead for a long moment. She remembered the gesture. He had kissed her forehead before, in the car, after the meltdown with her parents. But this was different. There was a different feeling to this. It felt like he was treating her… as an equal. Which was of course nonsense, she was far away from being his equal. But she did feel like he was sincere in his appreciation, that her loyalty didn't go unnoticed. She shivered a little when his other hand touched her elbow just briefly, a touch that was at the same time a little possessive, but also a gesture of genuine kindness.

Eventually he took the hand from her neck and pushed her away, not in the… rejecting way. More like… it wasn't the right time. It would be, some day. But it wasn't yet. And she understood that. She would wait. She could wait. "I'll figure out a way," he finally said.

"I know," she replied. She stepped away, her hands leaving his face and for a moment, a weak moment, he wanted to hold her back. But he didn't. He stayed behind when she left the office, but the thought stayed in his mind. That she would, without hesitation, kill for him, for his goals, for his vision. She hadn't even questioned it, hadn't even sounded scandalised at the truly outrageous request to kill another human for his benefit. She had just accepted it, as if it was a completely natural thing to do. As if there was no reason for her to doubt him at all. He had almost forgotten what it felt like to have someone be so confident in his choices, his words. Losing two Beta's had made him unstable, the constant questioning from Marco, the insecurity caused by losing his sight. And here she was. A girl who didn't question him at all. Who supported him without conditions. And her support helped.

* * *

She knew she was doing a very stupid thing. Foolish. And he would probably cast her out for it. But she felt it was the right thing to do. She felt it was the only way.

So, she sought out Talia Hale herself.

The Queen of Wolves stayed at a nice Hotel in the city, overlooking the harbour. She had not expected the girl to come find her. She had expected Deucalion, but apparently he was much more upset than she had anticipated. She opened the door to find the girl waiting outside.

"Lyka," she noted, admittedly surprised.

"I came to talk about the initiation."

Talia hesitated, then stepped aside.

"Come in."

She entered a spacious, elegant hotel suite, very befitting to the woman she thought Talia to be. Chic, elegant, clean, very noble. Talia switched off the TV and took another glass from the bar. "Wine?"

"Yes, thank you."

Talia poured a second glass and neither of them talked for a while, until they had taken the first sips. Lyka hadn't really had much wine in her life, let alone good one. So she took her time deciding whether she liked it or not.

"So he told you what it was about? You convinced him?"

"I didn't. He doesn't know I'm here. But I think for what he hopes to achieve, this peace he's been fighting for… this needs to be done. So I want to know everything there is to know about the _nagual_ and their rite."

Talia looked at her for a long time silently, her accurate brows pulled together in thoughts.

"You're going against his decision?"

"I am trying to do the right thing for him. He knows it's the only way but he'd never ask this of me."

"You're probably right, he wouldn't."

Talia sat down, crossed her impossibly long legs and nodded. "What did he tell you about the initiation?"

"That I am supposed to kill a human and deliver a vital organ to the Superior."

Talia nodded.

"Yes, that is essentially what it is about. The initiation, as far as I have learned, takes place during a full moon night. The _nagual_ packs take a number of humans to a remote wilderness within pre-set limits, hunting grounds you might say. The humans are released and must literally run for their lives, if they manage to leave the perimeter, they are safe. But I hear no one ever made it. That might be exaggerated though. But the point is, only the wolves that manage to kill a human during this hunt are allowed to call themselves _nagual_ and be part of the pack. Now, the humans – just so we're clear – are as far as I've heard criminals. Convicts that mysteriously disappear from prisons, men the police never caught, they are low-lives. That does not justify killing them for sport, but I think it is relevant to mention. The _nagual_ don't kill for fun, they kill because it is their tradition. They are the most traditional culture of wolves I know, true to the ancient ways. Most packs in the world have long since moved on from this, but the _nagual_ see it as their responsibility to uphold the traditions so that it is never forgotten where we come from. While I understand their thought, I do not agree with it. But it is a fact that the nagual, and your family's pack in particular, are highly regarded. They are a force to be reckoned with and the Hale alliance here in the north has always feared them. My father… sees it as an opportunity that you are part of Deucalion's pack now and-"

"I don't care about your father or whatever he thinks this is. I care about Deucalion. If my becoming a _nagual_ helps him realise his vision of peace, I will do whatever it takes," Lyka interrupted. Talia fell silent for a moment.

"You care for him."

"He's my Alpha, of course I care. So who do I need to talk to, to become an initiate?"

"Your grandfather. He's in charge, he's the Superior. You won't have to go there alone. My father already made it abundantly clear that he wishes to support you – obviously because he wants your loyalty. Female _nagual_ are very unusual, there are few packs that have women, but mostly the _nagual_ believe it is a thing for males. You will not be taken serious, you will struggle. But I support you, so will my father, and I am sure Deucalion will as well, once he's over the fact that you went against his ruling."

"I am afraid he's going to hate me for it…"

But Talia smiled and shook her head.

"He won't. I don't think he could, even if he wanted to," Talia said softly. Then she rose. "Very well. You will approach your grandfather, I will let my father know that you will undergo the initiation. I am glad you are doing this, Lyka."

"It's what has to be done."

Although she sounded confident, she really wasn't. Would she really be able to go through with this? Killing another human being – low-life or not?

For Deucalion? She had said she – and everyone in the pack – would go to war for him. But now that she was actually faced with that very choice...

Yet her memory of the conversation earlier with the Alpha confirmed her in her choice. The pain she had heard in his voice about the events at the last negotiation, the horrors he must have suffered through, witnessing his Beta's being slaughtered and then having his eyesight taken from him. It had dawned on her that the last things he'd ever seen were images of treason and pain and that... that thought just hurt her immensely. So would she kill for him? Yes, she most certainly would.

* * *

**Author's note:**

Thank you guys for the reviews, I am so happy you liked the last chapters! It's incredibly motivating to see people are regularly reading and are interested to see how it turns out and for those of you who hope I never stop this fic: I have A LOT of things planned that still need to happen and probably there will be more things popping up in my head - after all, I have eight years to fill from now to the end of 'Tattoo'. So don't worry ^^

Now, very dialogue heavy chapter today, lots of information in it setting the tone for the next few chapters. Plus some more development in the Deucalion/Lyka relationship, yeay!

Everyone excited for the new episode? I know I am. (Can't wait to see my favourite Demon Wolf again!). Wish you all a pleasant Wolfday/Moonday, and fun with this chapter.

Leave reviews or message me, you can't possibly imagine how happy I am every time I read them!


	10. War Council

**War Council**

The news spread like wildfire. A girl who had demanded initiation as a _nagual_, it called everyone onto the agenda.

She had been able to reach her grandfather and he had agreed to meet her and hear out her request, although he made no promises. He and his pack would travel to meet them. And that was where the trouble started. Because the instant it became known that a wild pack of _nagual_ was travelling to Boston, the entire Hale alliance had practically readied their arms. Or, as Waldorf put it: _'Shit hit the fan'_.

She had to break the news to Deucalion and that had not been a pleasant talk. Because actually, it hadn't been a talk at all. Because he didn't say a thing. He was really more terrifying when he didn't say anything at all and as much as she hated being patronised, in that moment it had felt exactly like she was talking to her father. Like the time she had told her parents she wanted to study history – in a different life. He just sat there in silence, hands folded, frowning behind his glasses. And she sat opposite him, nervous beyond measure, would have given everything if he'd just yell at her for going behind his back. But he said nothing. And then, the most parental thing he could have _possibly_ said:

"I am disappointed."

She drew in a shaking breath. She could physically _feel_ his disappointment, probably because of the connection between an Alpha and his Beta's, and it almost made her cry.

"I know," she said in a small voice. "But I won't apologise. I still think I did the right thing."

And quite honestly, he knew that. That wasn't what upset him the most about it. It was all the things around it: that she had gone behind his back, that she had deliberately chosen to do the exact opposite of what he had asked her to, that with her decision she had brought a lot of trouble for the pack. It may not have looked like it yet, but he knew within a matter of days every single pack Richard could rally up to meet the _nagual_ would make their way here. It meant a lot of preparation in a very short time for him.

He sighed when he got up, walked closer until his hand found her shoulder, then he leaned down and kissed her temple.

"I know."

She leaned against his lips with a sigh, held on to his hand, keeping it on her shoulder. But eventually, he pulled away. "We'll have to prepare. If the alliance clashes with the _nagual_ here, we'll need to be ready. God knows what will happen."

He left his office and she heard him pass instructions to the other members of the pack. Neutral ground, outside of the city, somewhere no humans would accidentally stumble over them. He spoke of a war council. He instructed Marco to intensify training, she would need it if she wanted to impress the competition as an initiate, if she wanted to outsmart these wolves that had been training all their lives for this one moment. She would need all the training she could get.

So she trained. Focused on nothing else, knowing how much depended on how well she would present herself to the wolves from the south.

But it didn't matter. It didn't matter at all how well prepared they would walk into this, they could not have been prepared for it.

* * *

Four nights after Lyka had contacted her grandfather, they arrived. Deucalion's pack had set a remote location in the middle of the Naonet Woodlands as their meeting point. They met in the night, in an overgrown clearing, beautiful if it weren't for the dire circumstances of their presence here. They had lit torches, all wildlife of the area had fled. And the pack looked its finest. It was a strange feeling, as if their unity had increased in the situation they were now in. They moved as a whole.

Deucalion arrived with Statler, Marco and Lyka. Susan, Waldorf, Paul and Abigail had left their bikes at the border of the forest and ran the remaining part of the way, Liam joined them about halfway. The tension in the air was almost painful, like they were breathing electricity. No one spoke.

The _nagual_ were the first to arrive. Wild howls filling the air before they appeared on the clearing. Donovan McCall led them himself. Her grandfather.

She had very little memory of him from her childhood and even his voice on the telephone had not been very familiar. But when she saw him, she knew. Donovan McCall was a tall man for his age. His hair had almost completely receded from his head but he had a light grey stubble around his chin. His dark eyes were now scanning the area attentively, probably counting the wolves – the potential threats. He was wearing dark clothes, a coat, looked like an ordinary man. But when his gaze found Deucalion, his eyes flashed red.

Lyka felt their Alpha tense next to her, his hands clenching to fists, sensed a suppressed growl deep in him. Had he met the man who had bitten and turned him so long ago again after that? Was this the first time? A smirk appeared on her grandfather's lips, revealing sharp, white teeth.

"Ah, my boy. _Deucalion_ you call yourself now, no? You turned out well. Should have known you'd eventually be back to bite me in the ass," he spoke, his voice sounding almost sweet. He laughed a little. Then his gaze wandered on. Not far, just right next to the Alpha he had created. His smirk turned into a smile. "And there's my Lyka. Look at you… you look just like your mother. Good woman. And good to see you turned out better than your good for nothing father."

Ah, right, she remembered why they never had much contact to her grandfather. Because he was mean and entirely unlikable.

"Grandfather," she greeted through gritted teeth. Donovan McCall looked around again.

"Impressive pack you have there, boy. How many are they? Seven? Eight? Strength in numbers, no?"

A man stepped out onto the clearing behind her Grandfather, ahead of the rest of the pack. Lyka took a moment to inspect the men that had arrived here with Donovan McCall. There was only one woman, an old, Mexican woman, small and wrinkled and dressed in absolutely hideous robes and she was carrying around a basket with amulets and charms. She assumed it was the packs Emissary, although she had never actually seen one. The men however were impressive. They were all Latin American, all had something of tall, tribal warriors to them but none of them had quite the charisma of the man who stepped forward now. Tall, his skin somewhat tanned, thick dark hair, a dark beard on his chin, dark eyes that were sparkling with a smile. He placed a hand on Donovan McCall's shoulder and told him something in Spanish she couldn't quite catch simply because he spoke too fast. Then he turned towards them.

"Lyka, you probably don't remember me? I am Santiago, your fathers younger brother."

"The one born a wolf," Deucalion commented. Santiago McCall nodded. Lyka remembered Talia had mentioned him. If Donovan McCall was equal to Richard Hale, Santiago was basically equal to Talia. He was the Alpha of the McCall family, he was a Superior and a leading figure of the _nagual_. Basically, he was in charge. And that was good, because he seemed much, much nicer than his father. He came closer with a smile, held out a hand towards her.

"It is good to finally meet you properly. Cesar made sure we stayed away from you," he admitted and shook her hand. His handshake was firm, but not hard. He then proceeded to pat her shoulder with a happy laugh before he turned towards Deucalion. "I suppose thanks are in order, for bringing our family back together."

"I didn't really have a say in the matter," Deucalion admitted. She could hear the bitterness of those words. But Santiago shook his head.

"I'm not talking about Lyka. I'm talking about you. You were turned by one of us, you are part of us, whether you like it or not. Sooner or later, we will call back what is our own."

He said it in such a sweet, charming way, with such a nice smile, that one could almost mistake it for genuine kindness. But only almost. Because the threat in his words was real. And Deucalion responded accordingly. Eyes flashing red, teeth bared, making the entire pack pull out their claws. Santiago raised his hands in defence, laughing. "Please, no reason to get all aggressive. That's not why we're here, is it? Now, I take it we're waiting for the rest of your little… alliance? I don't know what they are hiding in the shadows for."

Lyka looked over at the darkness Santiago's now red eyes were fixed on. And there they were. The Hale alliance. Santiago stepped away, returning to his pack and watched as the men and women joined their gathering. They were quite the sight, Lyka had to admit. Talia Hale was ahead of them all in a floor long dress in the colours of an autumn forest, her dark hair falling like silk on her shoulders and her noble features stern as she watched the _nagual_ attentively. Behind her came a man, as tall and intimidating as Donovan McCall – just with more hair. He was leaning on a fine, dark wooden cane. Waldorf leaned over to her, introducing the pack one after the other in quick whispers.

"That is Richard Hale," was the first thing he whispered. She had suspected as much. The man demanded authority, the moment he walked by. With him was Talia's younger brother, Peter, a ridiculously handsome young man with unusually steel-blue eyes, different from his sister. And there was a girl, about Lyka's age and in appearance so much like Talia that she didn't even need Waldorf's comment (_'Laura, Talia's daughter'_) to know who she was. Laura was tall and elegant in her movements, her dark hair tied back and falling in soft waves on her shoulder. She was so much like her mother, it was frightening! She was with her father (_'Hector, Talia's husband. He's a prick, just so you know'_), who was tall, had longer, dark blonde hair and deep, hazel eyes. Drop dead gorgeous, the whole lot of them! In total, there were seven Hale family members here, apparently the children had been left at home with an aunt of Talia's.

But the Hale family were not the only wolves here. Five more packs had come, all with about four or five members. Waldorf seemed tense.

"Oh, Boss… Kali and Ennis are here, too."

Deucalion looked up as if he had picked up on their scent even before Waldorf had mentioned them. He seemed focused on a woman who had arrived and Lyka felt a twitch of jealousy in her stomach. Because as if it wasn't enough that the majestic Talia Hale was here, no, there had to be another beautiful she-wolf. The one Waldorf had introduced as Kali was a tall, lean woman with foreign features, long dark hair and – most noteworthy – bare feet. She moved elegantly, like a dancer, so light that she didn't make a sound on the forest ground.

The one Waldorf had introduced as Ennis on the other hand was a proper giant! The man was so huge, he made everyone else in the clearing look pale in comparison! He was almost in wolf form already, a wide, slightly aggressive grin on his face revealing his sharp canines, his thick brows pulled together over red eyes. Deucalion sighed.

"Great. _Now_ it's a party…" he mumbled, obviously less than amused.

There were other wolves, but these were the ones that stayed in Lyka's memory even long after this meeting. Donovan McCall smirked as he turned towards the Hale family.

"Ahhh, the majesties have arrived!" he greeted and mockingly bowed before them. Talia rolled her eyes a little, hardly visible. Her daughter though was much less trained in hiding what she felt. Her eye-roll was most dramatic and their resemblance in that moment was uncanny. Waldorf chuckled next to her.

"We call them the 'family of glorious eye-rolls' for a reason."

Lyka couldn't hold back the smirk, although she didn't comment further. Because the King had stepped forward to meet Donovan McCall face to face. It was a silent battle they were fighting until finally, Richard Hale turned away from Donovan towards Lyka.

"And this is she?" he asked, more directed towards Talia than anyone else, but his gaze was fixed on Lyka and it made her genuinely uncomfortable. The King came closer, his eyes dark and somehow frightening. The closer he got, the more pressing his power was. Like he was squeezing the air out of your lungs. The King reached out, traced the line of her jaw, then looked up to Deucalion and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You made a fine choice, Deucalion."

"I know."

He sounded passive and that terrified her. There was something entirely absent about Deucalion, reflecting how very much he wanted to _not_ be here right now, in this awkward position between the most powerful packs of their strange world. Richard Hale however ignored it and turned towards the McCall's again.

"So, what do you say? Will you let your granddaughter join this… rite of passage you practice. Or is she not good enough for you?"

"Good enough? Good enough? Our little girl, not good enough!? Oh, we know she is. We have no doubt at all. It has nothing to do with her skill or her blood though, it is about what tradition dictates." McCall explained.

"Or, you know, it might just be because you're stuck up conservatives. There are packs among you that admit women to the initiation, why don't you?" Talia inquired.

"One she-wolf is easily worth five of your men!" Kali agreed.

"And she will get her chance to prove it," Donovan McCall agreed.

Deucalion raised his brows.

"That was suspiciously easy," he commented. McCall flew around.

"If she fails to pass the initiation, _we_ get _him_," he declared and pointed a finger at the blind Alpha. There was a collective gasp and mildly confused faces.

"I... I am not sure that works," Talia noted after a moments contemplation. She seemed as confused by the demand as the rest of them. The King however growled violently.

"You cannot claim supremacy over another Alpha as you please. Your proposition is nonsense."

"On the contrary. I created him. The bite that marks his birth into our world was mine, so I claim ownership over him. I will allow the girl to participate in the ritual, but _if_ she fails to complete the task given, he _and_ his pack leave the Hale alliance and join the _nagual_."

"This is an outrage!" Richard protested. And there was an uproar among the wolves. Growling, claws were pulled out, teeth were bared. It all happened so fast Lyka could hardly follow. Richard Hale and Donovan McCall went at each other and it looked like the Hale King was determined to rip the throat out of the _nagual_. But a metal cane cut between them, forcing them apart. The two men glared at the blind Alpha grimly, both offended by his audacity to interfere. Deucalion just shook his head. He had somehow expected something like this to happen. Really it would have surprised him if this entire thing would have gone down without the notion coming up once. He had always wondered when the wolf who had turned him would return to claim his 'property'. And he knew, from the comment Santiago McCall had made earlier, that it was the only reason why they had even agreed to show up here today in the first place. They had smelled the opportunity and they had taken it. Here it was then, the moment it all would come down to.

"She will not fail, so there is no reason for me to worry."

He heard her draw in a sharp breath and a moment later, she had pulled him away from the two rivalling Kings.

"What the hell are you doing?!" she asked upset. "I thought you _hated_ this plan!"

"I do. But if they think any of their so-called initiates have anything on you, the joke's on them. I am entirely confident that you will pass this ritual."

"Oh _good_, that makes one of us," she declared. He could hear she was upset and it made him smirk a little, perhaps not wise in the situation, but he didn't care. He didn't speak a word when he put both hands on her cheeks, a thumb brushing the corner of her mouth, before he turned back towards the Kings.

"She will participate in your ritual. She will succeed. If she doesn't, you have my word my pack will join your group."

Alarmed gazes were exchanged. Lyka saw Talia shake her head silently. Their own pack was twitching anxiously. Donovan McCall stared at the blind man for a long time, then nodded.

"We have a deal then. Then we will meet here, for the next full moon," he said, then turned towards his pack with open arms. "This shall be our hunting ground!" he declared and the nagual men howled ferociously. McCall turned back towards the Boston pack, looked from Deucalion to Lyka and grinned. "I look forward to owning you. _Both_ of you."

A devilish grin spread on the face of McCall when he patted his granddaughter's cheek before he turned and left, not even giving the Hale alliance the courtesy of addressing them again. Santiago McCall turned towards the Boston pack with a grin.

"Welcome to the family."

"Don't bet on it," Deucalion returned without the slightest hesitation. Santiago laughed, then followed his father. Waldorf grumbled in his beard.

"It looks like out of the whole bunch of them McCall's, we ended up with the only fairly decent one."

"_Fairly_ decent?" Lyka asked sceptically. The older wolf shrugged.

"You know you can be a real bitch sometimes."

The tension was immediately relaxed, the moment the _nagual_ had left the clearing. At least until Richard Hale had turned towards Deucalion.

"You know this can easily lead to a war; you know I will _not_ let your pack join them," he said grimly.

"It won't happen."

"Your confidence is admirable, Deucalion. I hope for everyone's sake it is not misplaced," Richard said casting a warning glance at Lyka which made her shrink a little. She had caused quite the mess, hadn't she? Richard Hale turned away and left, accompanied directly by Peter, soon followed by the rest until Talia was the only Hale left in the clearing. But eventually she, too, left. Without a word. They would be in the area. No one doubted it, no one thought even for a moment that the alliance would just return to their respective homes knowing that in less than three weeks, there would be a hunt in this very forest.

Lyka sighed loudly and rubbed both hands over her face.

"What a mess! This is all my fault!"

"Yes, it is. You should have listened to me instead of making such a decision on your own," Deucalion confirmed. Like she needed him to make her feel any worse about it all! But when she looked up at him, she found a smile. Which was irritating and worried her a bit. "But you have almost three weeks until the full moon. By then, you'll be a force to be reckoned with. I will make sure of that. Personally. I am not giving you up to them so easily."

"Comforting," she grumbled to herself. He raised a hand, seeking for her. She took it and placed it as per usual on her shoulder. But he only kept it there for a brief moment, before he brushed his fingertips down her bare arm to her elbow, tracing invisible lines that she would probably feel for the rest of her life, because the touch seared itself into her skin and mind. When he reached her elbow, he closed his hand around her arm and pulled her closer abruptly, making her stumble against his chest. He leaned closer, his lips brushing by her ear,

"You are _mine_. I protect what's mine."

His words came in what could only be described as a growl, intimidating really, driving shivers down her spine. But she knew there was much more behind this than empty talk. He had lost two Beta's already, he would not lose another one. He would fight for her, for his pack, with everything he had if need be. That realisation turned her thoughts from _'dear lord give me the strength not to ravish him right now'_ to a much softer gesture. She closed her eyes and leaned closer, her head resting against his chest and as if the unexpected physical approach he had shown wasn't enough, he now wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pressed his lips on her hair. It was soft, the scent of the forest around them mixed with her shampoo that seemed to have grape in it. A scent he could get used to. Or really, was already used to.

He raised his head when he heard someone walk closer and knew, by the way her feet made almost no sound, who it was.

"Kali."

"I hope your puppy is worth the trouble she got us all into. I hope she has what it takes to get us out of this mess," she warned and glared at Lyka menacingly, before she walked past the Boston pack, quickly followed by her own wolves. She and the pack belonging to the one called Ennis were the first ones of the other packs to leave until eventually Deucalion turned towards his own wolves.

"Let's head out of here as well. For now, it seems we're on the safe side."

"We'll see about that..." Marco growled, obviously annoyed. But Deucalion ignored him for now. He would, eventually, have to deal with Marco's attitude, he knew that. But right now he really had different things to worry about. He set the pack in motion, leaving the clearing. Abigail and Paul took care of the torches, leaving them in deep darkness soon and as they walked, the wildlife slowly came out from their hides. No one spoke. And he kept his arm around her shoulders the entire time.

* * *

**Author's note:**

_Thank you for all the lovely reviews! Keep them coming ^^ it makes me very, very happy. _

_Introducing some new key players in this chapter - the McCall pack! They are not as nice as you thought they'd be, but they are also not as bad as they look right now. But that is something for much later. _

_I hope you enjoy it. Want to keep this author happy? Keep writing reviews ^^ _


	11. Preparation

**Preparation**

Training. That was all her life consisted of for the weeks leading up to the next full moon. She had time for nothing else. She got up long before even Marco did and came back from her run long after he did. After a shower and a breakfast that would actually be enough to fill the stomachs of three grown men she would continue with her training – push-ups and sit-ups and boxing and sparring with Marco. Twice, Kali showed up unannounced – apparently that was the way she rolled – and had proven Lyka's first impression of the woman wrong. Yes, she was a bit arrogant, but she was just as determined to let this end the best way possible. So she had taught her a few tricks. Turned out Kali was a masterful warrior! Her whole body a weapon, including her deadly feet! She was faster, more agile and much more athletic than any of the other wolves and taught Lyka to be the same.

Every evening she'd fall into bed exhausted, bruised black and blue only to wake up perfectly healed in the morning so she could get right back at it. For about a week now she lived at her dorm room again, with Liv, who was incredibly happy to have her back and kept asking questions. About the pack, about the family, and of course about Deucalion (_'Has anything happened yet, did you do it?!'_ – which called for the only true response: a shrug). The truth was, Lyka had at this moment not a clue where she and Deucalion stood. She knew with relative certainty that she was hopelessly in love with him. But every time she thought she was over the fact that she would _never_ be more to him than a Beta – perhaps his second in command, yes, but never more than that – he did something completely unpredictable and made her question it all over again! Like kiss her temple, brush his fingertips over her lips, sought almost casual touches as if he didn't know he sent her on an emotional roller coaster ride every time his hands 'accidentally' brushed over her skin. She was pretty sure he knew exactly what he was doing, his movements always way to deliberate to be just by accident.

Today, three days before the full moon, was another such occasion.

She returned from her morning run, showered, had breakfast, then came to the warehouse for sparring with Marco. Liv had driven her out here today, Lyka had studied in the car. She had a lot of catching up to do and right now, it was a welcome change to train also her mind a bit, not just her body. It must have been a strange picture – a girl apparently just fresh from training, in sparring clothes, hair tied back, a pair of reading glasses on her nose, biting a pen while reading a thick history textbook, driving to an abandoned warehouse. Liv would pick her up again in three hours to go to the library, she took her bag of books and left the car, heard her friend drive off. She entered the warehouse only to find Deucalion waiting for her, Marco nowhere to be seen. She looked around confused.

"Marco?"

"He's not coming, I gave him the day off," Deucalion explained and tossed her a smooth, wooden staff. "I'll be your sparring partner today."

She gasped when she almost failed to catch the weapon he had handed her because she was so completely surprised by the statement. But then again, he seemed to mean it. It was the first time she saw him out of his usually casual yet elegant clothes, but in a dark training suit instead. He took off the jacket now and that alone was ridiculously unfair. Under it, he was wearing a simple, light grey wife-beater that could only barely contain his broad, muscular chest. His bare arms looked much bigger without a jacket to cover them and she was momentarily distracted by the veins under his skin and the rippling abdominal muscles she could guess under the shirt. She had to gulp down any comment that would just make this incredibly awkward and tried to focus. She pulled her gaze away from his incredible body to his face, noticing that he wasn't even wearing his glasses. Gosh, he was practically naked!

"Okay," was all she could say, and she could hear the lack of confidence in her own voice. If she picked up on it, so would he. To cover up the insecurity, she kicked off her shoes, whirling her weapon around to get comfortable with the feeling of the weight in her hands – they had not done much training with weapons before – and took a fighting stance. They began circling each other. Whenever she moved, he mirrored her steps, he knew exactly what she was doing. Which meant she was making too much noise. Kali had tried to teach her to move with as little sound as possible but apparently she wasn't doing a really good job picking up on it. Tricking him wouldn't work. She'd have to be more aggressive than that. So, with her teeth bared and claws out (_'On command, yes!'_) she attacked. He evaded the blow with her staff, caught her in an imbalance and with one hit of the edge of his hand knocked her off her feet. She rolled over her shoulder, keeping her weapon and her awareness, tried to knock his feet away from under him but he had, anticipating the manoeuvre, taken a step away from her, just far enough to be out of reach of her arm extended with the staff. She was up on her feet again quickly and attacking once again, this time he caught her wrist, wrung the staff from her and used her own momentum to make her lose her balance, sending her flying yet again. She growled angry and he smirked when he turned towards her, flipping the staff in his hands cleverly.

"You're not getting anywhere like this."

"I can see that," she snarled back.

He relaxed, put down the staff and pulled a dark bandage from the pocket of his trousers. It took her a moment to realise what it was and that made her raise an eyebrow alarmed.

"Let's even the playfield, shall we?" he suggested, came closer to her, following the sound of her accelerated heartbeat and breaths. She didn't move but watched him carefully as he walked behind her. He stepped closer, she could feel the warms of his body and it made her honestly nervous. She felt his hands on her shoulders, then he reached around to open the blindfold, brought it over her eyes carefully and tied it behind her head, making sure he didn't pull her hair in the process. Everything around her went dark. Not a glimpse of light fell through the blindfold and she realised this had to be his day-to-day reality.

He heard her heartbeat increase, could actually smell the adrenalin her body produced the her brain realised the rush of fear. It was a perfectly natural response. Fear of the darkness, every human being had it, deep down in their subconscious. And her body reacted accordingly, trying to make up for the lack of vision by strengthening everything else.

"You expect me to fight you _blindfolded?"_ she asked in disbelief.

"You rely too much on your eyes, Princess. Learn to listen to your other senses," he suggested, his voice little more than a whisper when he leaned closer. His hands came to rest at the nape of her neck, fingertips reaching her collarbone and she could feel his lips brush by her ear, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine. Intuitively, she leaned closer to him, her slender shoulders against his chest. She turned towards him just a little, until he could feel her lips on his skin, almost brush the corner of his mouth. She had trouble breathing when his hands left her neck, slowly tracing down her bare arms. Her heart stumbled out of rhythm under his touch and every thought of a sparring lesson was completely forgotten. Which was probably the only reason why he could so easily overwhelm her.

Before she even knew what happened, he had turned her around to face him and pressed her to the stone wall of the warehouse with his entire body weight, wrists pinned above her head. She gasped, all air kicked out of her lungs on impact. "In the initiation, you will have to outsmart the other wolves. They will fight you over your prey, they will not hesitate to kill you. You can _never_ let your guard down," he growled. She couldn't speak, couldn't respond, and couldn't even think clearly with the only thing on her mind being how close he was right now. She bit her lip to keep herself from reaching for him, from trying to kiss him. Again. Because that hadn't turned out so well the last time she tried.

He took both her wrists in one hand, the other hand wandered behind her, slowly up her spine until he tangled his fingers in her hair. Suddenly, he pulled, forcing her head to snap backwards, exposing her neck completely. She gasped, tried to free herself but failed miserably and the efforts ceased when he leaned closer ever so slowly, until his lips came to rest on her skin, brushing gently over her throat, he could feel her pulse beating beneath the soft skin. Her knees nearly gave in, she couldn't hold back the moan sneaking its way past her lips. "I could have torn your throat out by now."

He abruptly let go of her wrists and stepped away, leaving her exposed to a sudden chill, cooling down her feverish temperature. And she had to catch herself on the wall until she was sure her knees wouldn't fail her. She heard him walk, pick something up and she carefully peeked out from under the blindfold. He had taken her staff and was walking closer again. She slowly shook her head.

"The things I'd let you do to me…" she mumbled, more to herself but well aware that he would hear it. A smirk appeared on his lips and he held out a hand she instantly went to take. He pulled her closer by it.

"You're cheating," he teased and she blushed deeply. But before she could respond, he placed his hand on her cheek and leaned closer. It took her almost three heartbeats to fully comprehend that he was brushing his lips over hers. Just lightly and with no force or demand at all, just a feathered touch, just enough to leave his taste on her lips, as if he wanted to know what it felt like. She sighed a little when she sank against his body and put her arms around his neck hesitantly, careful not to attack him like she had the last time they had been this close. He didn't seem to mind. Her fingers were caressing his shoulders, the back of his neck, his hair and he couldn't help but lean deeper into the kiss. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer, held her close to his body, felt her heart beat, a flutter in her chest. She parted her lips and pulled his lower lip between her teeth in a gentle nibble, before her tongue met his.

And for a moment, they were completely lost in the kiss. So lost that he accidentally dropped the staff he was still holding and the clattering sound of the piece of wood falling on the stone floor pulled them back to reality. He pulled away, she was breathless, slightly dizzy, a little more than mildly aroused. "You _do_ things with toys, and tools. _You_ are neither," he eventually clarified, his voice a low, rumbling sound from deep within his chest.

He went to his knees, one hand still resting on her hips and he could feel her finger still in his hair. He picked up the staff he had dropped and handed it back to her. She held on to it with shaking hands and had to lick her lips before she could speak. His taste was still on them.

"Really, you expect me to just keep sparring like nothing happened?" she asked in disbelief. He smirked.

"If you can get me to fall down once, I'll take you out for dinner tonight," he offered. She sighed, pulled her ponytail tighter and tried to focus on sparring again. Needless to say, there was no dinner.

* * *

It was a bit over 1 p.m. when Liv returned to the warehouse. This time she did leave the car, looked around a bit. Curiosity was said to kill the cat but she was by nature curious. Of course she wanted to know where her best friend spent so much time now. The warehouse was large and mostly empty. Towards the back, there were a few rooms, once offices, now she could see campsites there, so apparently some members of the pack stayed there permanently – which explained how Lyka had been able to stay there for the past weeks. Most windows were broken and provisionally fixed, there were portable heaters standing in the corners, not used at the moment but the colder months would surely come soon. There even was a large bathroom, like the ones they had in gyms. She heard water running, so she assumed Lyka was showering after her sparring lesson.

When Liv returned to the front gate of the warehouse, the blind man was waiting by her car. She froze to the spot and he raised his head. He was wearing training trousers and a wife-beater, seemed a bit sweaty but not like he had overly exhausted himself. He was handsome, she had to hand it to Lyka, the girl had great taste in men. Or very, very bad taste, depending on how you looked at it.

Lyka didn't talk much about him, no matter how much Liv tried to get her to talk. She knew his name was Deucalion, although not even Lyka knew if that was his real name. Since her grandfather had said it was what he _'called himself now'_ they had come to speculate that it was not in fact his name but something he chose for himself. Why, they hadn't figured out yet. Of course Liv had tried to find some info on him. Without much success. He was a ghost, there were no records of him or anyone from the pack for that matter. All they really knew was that he was apparently British and, according to Susan, he was 33 years old now.

She still stood frozen to the spot and he seemed to hear the gears work in her head, trying to figure out how to get to her car. He smiled.

"Hello Olivia," he greeted. Oh hot damn! Lyka had said his voice was insanely fantastic, Liv had laughed it off as silliness. But good heavens his voice was like thick, dark, hot chocolate! She gasped a little, nervously began fumbling with her flaxen hair.

"Um… you're Deucalion, right?" she asked shyly, even blushed a little. Then she called herself to order. What the hell?! She was a lesbian, dammit; she shouldn't be so flustered by _a_ _dude!_ That guy really knew how to make people question their sexuality. She shook off the thought and marched closer. It was _her_ car after all.

"I am. And you are Lyka's best friend, aren't you. She speaks fondly of you."

"Yeah, well, she's my sister. And I know for a fact she complains about me enough. That's what sisters do."

He laughed. Not an aggressive, dominant laugh but only little more than a chuckle from deep within his actually quite massive chest. Seriously, the man was a beast! How much did he work out? She looked up from his impressive torso to his face. His eyes weren't covered by sunglasses for the first time, but he had them closed, probably to not make her nervous. Liv pulled a face. "So… Lyka can't really tell… what _are_ you two?"

"What we are? Wolves. But you know that."

"Don't act all confused. You know what I'm talking about. She's all… _smitten_ by you. I mean she is completely head over heels and I have never seen her like that, so you better treat her well! Just so you know, if you hurt her or break her heart or do anything stupid that makes her come home crying, I _will_ come for you. You may be some super werewolf, but I am a best friend and that's not something to mess with."

He listened attentively as the girl spoke and eventually he smiled. Not his usually mocking smirk but a genuine, kind smile. He was impressed by her courage, by how fiercely she protected her best friend.

"I would never hurt her. But I am glad to see you care so much. After what I've seen…" he hesitated, then chuckled and shook his head. "Well, not _seen_. But you know what I mean. I think you are the only one worth to be called her family."

"You can say that! But that doesn't answer my question really. What is she to you?"

He still smiled.

"She's my Princess."

"Yeah, dude, she really doesn't like being called Princess. Or any other cutesy nicknames, she hates that. Call her Baby and you'll lose a hand," Liv interrupted. He laughed and shook his head.

"I mean it. She is _literally_ my Princess. One day, I will no longer be able to lead my pack. A new Alpha will be needed and I want to have a say in who that will be. I chose Lyka for a reason, Olivia. I want her to replace me someday."

Liv blinked irritated and at a loss of words, which was a rare thing for her. She closed her mouth and thought these words through. Of course that was actually the proper meaning of Princess, wasn't it? One who would eventually follow a King or Queen on the throne. So if the Alpha werewolves or whatever considered themselves as Kings… was Lyka aware that he was training her to become an Alpha? Probably not.

"Okay… um… I guess… that's okay then… But that _still_ doesn't tell me what she is to you. It tells me what you _want_ her to be but goddamnit why can't men talk about their feelings?! _This_ is exactly why I prefer sleeping with girls! Girls _communicate_!"

He smiled cryptically. It was infuriating! Liv suddenly understood why Lyka was so reluctant to talk about him. Those mixed signals probably confused her even more. Liv was completely unable to tell if he really saw Lyka only as a good investment for the future or if he maybe felt more for her than he wanted to admit.

"Liv?"

Liv looked up when she heard her best friend. Lyka had just left the warehouse to find her best friend clearly upset, talking to Deucalion. "Sorry, had I known you were here already I would have hurried up."

Deucalion turned towards her and smiled.

"No rush. Olivia and I had a pleasant little chat. Very… enlightening."

His smile was cryptic and made her look alarmed from him to Liv, who just shrugged it off and opened her car door. Deucalion turned his head a little. "It was a pleasure, Olivia. We should talk again sometime. I'll think of an answer to sufficiently describe it."

"Describe it? Describe what? What's going on?!" Lyka asked upset. Deucalion laughed when he took her shoulders and gently pushed her towards the car.

"Some other time, Princess. Go, study."

She stood there, watched him return into the warehouse before she turned towards the car, climbed in and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Did you step on his toes?!"

"No!" Liv protested and started the car. "Well, maybe, just a little. But I had everyone's best interest at heart!"

The car drove off. Deucalion was leaning in the door, listening for the sound to grow distant. Olivia Anders, asking the real questions here. What _was_ Lyka to him? How _did_ he feel about her? He really couldn't tell. The kiss earlier, that moment of weakness he had allowed himself... he couldn't explain it rationally. The last time they had kissed, she had initiated it and it had been in a dangerous phase. But this time? There had been nothing impulsive about this kiss, nothing that suggested either of them had been at a loss of control over their own bodies or desires. This had been completely deliberate. He had kissed her because he had _wanted_ to. He had wanted to feel her lips. But what did it mean? How far did that go? How far was he willing to take it? He would actually have to think about an answer to give to her best friend. Not only for her, but also for his own sake and for Lyka. He needed to sort out what he really felt and what he really wanted.

* * *

**Author's note:**

Steaming it up a bit now. And as for the question when Deucalion is going to lose his shirt, I can tell you most definitely: _soon_ ^^ (vague answer is vague. But soon).

Now, I hate the word manoeuvre, by the way. Seriously, who came up with that word? There are so many ways to spell it wrong! But it sounds so nice! Why do words sound nice when they're so terrible in writing! Ah, whatever never mind my rambling.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter and i just have to say I love you all with your nice comments and messages! It makes me happy! Want to keep making this author happy? Keep 'em coming ^^


	12. Initiation

**Graphic violence up ahead, consider yourself warned.**

* * *

**Initiation**

Apparently waking up confused and bloody would be part of her routine now.

Lyka came to her senses in the woods, on a clearing by a river, the full moon brushing the treetops, the bitter, metallic stench of fresh blood everywhere around. But she was lucid. That was new. She looked up at the pale white sphere in the sky, was sure she heard it whisper. Then the whisper was interrupted by a wet gurgle beneath her. Her glance shot down. She realised the full extent of the situation she was in. Before her on the forest ground lay a man – not just a normal man, this one was tall, had probably been a brute once. Yet here she was, an 18-year-old girl, her hand firmly buried in his chest. Her arm was covered in blood up to her elbow, a ribcage cracked wide open was before her, blood seeping onto the ground, being sucked up by the dirt. She tasted blood on her lips and when she wiped her chin with her other hand, she realised it was dripping. The face of the man before her was severely mutilated by claws and his throat was ripped open. It was a miracle he was still breathing, even if it might just be last reflexes his brain told him to do. Like the occasionally twitching limb.

She had her hand firmly around his heart. Vital organ, right. The more vital the better. The heart seemed pretty vital to her.

She stumbled backwards and stared at the steaming, bloody organ in her hand. The situation felt unreal. How had she ended up here? It was all... blurry...

* * *

She remembered the car ride from the warehouse. Statler had been driving; Marco sat in the front with him. She and Deucalion sat in the back. He was listening for her heartbeat, she knew that, because at some point he noted:

"You're nervous."

"No shit, Sherlock," she had snarled back. He had touched her arm then, reached for her hand, entwined his fingers with hers and it made her look at him. The gesture made her heart jump and she couldn't hide it.

Things had... changed since their kiss a few days ago. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but he acted different towards her. She wasn't sure if he was aware that he was severely distracting her, that he pulled her focus away from her training and her study and the upcoming hunt and really from anything that wasn't him.

"You have nothing to worry about. I am confident you will do exceptionally well, Princess," he reassured her. She looked up curiously.

"You know... maybe a kiss would help with my confidence."

Deucalion laughed, Marco on the other hand rolled his eyes annoyed. The Alpha brought her hand to his lips, barely touching it but still, she'd let it count.

"I think you sound pretty confident," he noted. She forced a smile on her face. Well, it was easier to be flirty and distract herself with his lips than think about what was to come. But when Statler stopped the car, nothing in the world could distract her again. Statler turned towards them.

"So, this is our stop, from here you'll have to walk."

They left the car and silently walked the forest trail. Statler and Marco stayed behind. With the exception of Deucalion and – as a sign of good will towards the alliance – Talia, the _nagual_ had allowed no outsiders to attend the initiation. So the two of them walked in silence. He held her arm as a guide and they didn't speak a single word for the time they walked through the darkness. Night had long since fallen, but the moon had not yet risen. Voices drew closer and she could sense how on edge Deucalion was. And then they reached the clearing where they had met the nagual those few weeks ago and where they had now gathered. A large bonfire was lit and the wolves were howling in what seemed to be songs. There were men with drums and their Emissary was chanting strange songs, making it all feel like a strange dream. Most of the men had taken off their shirts, revealing big tattoos covering their tanned skin. Only the young men had no ink done yet, apparently it was a sign of rank among the pack and the initiates were yet to receive their first mark.

They were four young men, all between 15 and 18, lean, muscular boys with dark hair and dark eyes. When Lyka and Deucalion arrived, all four of them flew around to them and began howling.

"There she is, the baby girl!"

"Awww look how cute she is!"

"We'll have her for breakfast!"

Lyka's eyes flashed up yellow, she bared her canines, growled and Deucalion let go of her arm as if to tell her she had every right to rip their heads off. But she controlled herself. Mostly because at that moment, Santiago McCall pranced onto the clearing. One moment, he was in the form of a slender, fine wolf like creature with light brown fur and a much softer face than most wolves, the next moment he stood before them as the man she remembered from their last meeting. As it was, he was completely naked and was now handed a pair of trousers to cover himself by another wolf.

"Boys, mind your manners, you're in the presence of a lady," he warned the younger _nagual_. Then he turned towards his niece and the blind Alpha. "Lyka. Deucalion. Glad you came. I must admit I had my doubts whether you would actually go through with this."

"Shows how little you know me."

Santiago laughed.

"Well, we will change that soon. Since we'll soon have both of you join our pack, we have all the time in the world to catch up."

"Your confidence is misplaced, McCall," Deucalion calmly replied.

"Enough of this, it is about time!"

Donovan McCall entered the clearing with Talia Hale and she did not look like she was enjoying the company, at all. She immediately left the _nagual_ to join Deucalion and Lyka, arms crossed over her chest as she leaned closer.

"I do not like this."

"You're the one who talked her into this mess," Deucalion reminded her.

"I know!" Talia declared in frustration. She knew she had supported Lyka's choice. What she did not like about this was that they were holding their gruesome ritual here, in Hale territory. But now it was by far too late to turn back. Lyka knew that. She could feel it. The moon, creeping closer. Any moment now, it would show its faint light above the treetops. Her gaze wandered up and she could feel the light, feel the moon pull at her. The ember in her eyes grew deeper.

"It's time," she noted. Donovan McCall raised his brows.

"Oh? She feels the moon, no? Very... interesting. I see why you took a liking to her, Deucalion. Well, I think we should start. Bring in the _game!"_

It disgusted her how they spoke of 'game' and even more so when she saw the men bring in the ones they would be hunting. Five humans, all men, their hands tied, bags over their heads. The stench of fear surrounded them. She wondered how they had gotten to them, where they had dragged them away from. Two were wearing prison clothes, two looked like they had been picked off the streets, one looked normal. Santiago and Donovan exchanged a look, then a nod and Donovan stepped towards the captives. One after the other, he pulled the bags off their heads. The men looked around alarmed, panicking. In the dark, the forest, surrounded by men with glowing eyes and sharp teeth and claws. They must feel like they stumbled into a nightmare. Donovan proceeded to cut loose their ropes with a small knife and while he did, he marked each of them with a cut on their arms. The scent of blood filled the clearing instantaneously, the wolves were going wild. Eventually, McCall turned to face them.

"Welcome, humans. You have been selected to be part of the ancient initiation rite of the _nagual_. Bring a little purpose to your otherwise worthless lives. We are now in the heart of a territory surrounded by rivers and cliffs. You will have the chance to save your meaningless existence by crossing either border of this territory. You have the chance to leave here and return to your homes with the knowledge that you have been granted a second chance by the powers that be to better your life and make your existence worth something. If you are still alive by the time the full moon sets behind the trees again, you will live. If our initiates however catch you first, they will kill you. That is not a possibility, that is a fact. They are here to kill and they will. We will not negotiate, we will not show mercy, we will kill. We are the judges of the powers that be. This is a hunt, you are our game."

His eyes were glowing bright red as a grin cracked open on his face, revealing his sharp teeth. "Basically, run."

The wolves were beginning to grow uneasy. Claws digging in the dirt, eyes glowing in the darkness, reflecting the moonlight. She felt the beast awaken in herself. The smell of blood, the light of the moon, it was making her anxious. She tried to stay focused on what had helped her last time. But it had been easier then, with the pain. Now there were no chains, no pain, just her willpower. But there was Deucalion, who seemed to sense her struggle because he put a hand on her shoulders, squeezing lightly, assuring her of his presence. At least for now. He leaned closer and she could feel his lips on her ear and she closed her eyes, keeping out everything that wasn't his voice.

"You will conquer this, Princess. It's your nature, you have nothing to fear."

Her breath was calm, steady, she hardly heard the howling wolves around them. She heard the humans run, run for their lives, stumble away into the darkness. The boys were howling and as soon as Donovan McCall stepped aside, they were off. Running, falling over each other, howling. Deucalion only then took his hand off her shoulder as if to release her, to do what had to be done. She opened her eyes, a growl growing in her as she bared her fangs. Talia watched the transformation. He had trainer her well! Before they knew it, she was on the move, like a predator, smooth movements, half turning into a true wolf. _Moonchildren._ They really were special after all, and she was a marvel to watch.

Those were things Lyka was not consciously aware of anymore. She was in control of her mind, yes, but her body did what it had to. She had allowed instincts to take over. And her instinct was to follow the scent of blood. She was rushing through the forests, trees flying past her. She heard the howls of wolves from everywhere at once. The first human she spotted was torn to shreds in front of her eyes, blood spoiling the area around it. Limbs were flying. A boy, no older than 15, stood among the body parts, blood dripping from him, his body heaving with heavy breaths. She rushed past. There was nothing to salvage for her here. She needed to find her own prey.

The world was faster, wilder in this new state of mind. She was torn between the wild inside her and the human that she was. She didn't know what emotion was holding her alert, what her anchor was, but she knew it was the thought of Deucalion, his voice, and Liv, her scent, that was prominent in her head, that reminded her of who she was and let her not completely lose herself now.

The second human she saw was on the run. He had fallen, his ankle twisted, easy prey. She stalked, went in for the kill. But just before she could sink her claws into the man, she was caught mid-air, flew around, crashed on the forest ground with another wolf on top of her, roaring, claws prepared to slice her face to shreds. She rolled over, used his momentum to kick him off her and was on her feet quickly. But so was he. He attacked again, she flew around and kicked him, like Kali had taught her, in the chest. Bones cracked on impact, the boy flew backwards, the human had gotten away. The wolf was gasping for air, probably had ribs broken. He spat at her, she left him lying there, followed the human in the darkness. She had lost sight of him and after a moment was unsure where he had gone. She remembered Deucalion's lesson. So she closed her eyes, steadied her breath, focused on her other senses. Sound. She listened for the wind in the trees, the tiniest crack of branches and understory. Smell. She picked up the scent of blood in her surrounding, differentiating between fresh and old, dead meat and alive, wolves and humans each with their distinct nuances. And when she was sure she had picked the right one, she opened her eyes again and dashed through the forest, following the trail she had picked up on.

She remembered cutting off the human's path just as he was about to reach the river. She could smell the water. Safety was so close. And for a moment, there was a twitch of guilt inside her. Her humanity, telling her that it would be the right thing to let him go. Just let him cross the river so he'd be safe. They stood frozen to the spot for a seemingly endless moment. The man, staring in disbelief at the skinny girl in front of him. The girl with the wild, dark hair, yellow eyes in the moonlight. She could smell his fear but could also tell in his posture that he was contemplating to challenge her. To fight for his life. And he did. He grabbed a large piece of wood, screamed and attacked. He slammed the stick against her face, making her head snap back. And when she turned back towards him, the human in her was gone, the beast had taken over. She growled, bared her teeth and pranced forward.

Her claws dug into his shoulders, he screamed when he fell backwards and she sat on top of him, slicing his face open. Her head shot forward and her teeth sank into his throat. The bitter, metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, the man beneath her gurgled, squirmed, his scream suffocated by blood. She could feel his pulse press more blood through his carotid artery. Her teeth closed around the vessel and his gullet and she yanked her head back. Flesh tore, ripped from him. The limbs of her prey were spastic. She was in a blood rush. But the picture she had seen before came to mind. The boy that had ripped a man to shreds. But that wasn't their task, was it? She needed an organ. A vital organ.

She dragged her claws over his torso, slashing the clothes open, breaking skin. With a roar, she reached into the flesh of the already dead man, could feel the ribcage and crack it open. The sound was revolting, or so her mind tried to tell her. But the beast? The beast did what it was called to do. The beast knew that she wasn't like them, that she need not feel sympathy for a human, because she was something else now. The beast allowed her to forget that she had anything human in her and allowed her to feel... like a wolf. Completely changed under the full moon. She ripped the ribcage open, blood spattering over her and across the moss surrounding them. She reached into the chest, closed her clawed fingers around the vital pump, the organ any human would easily describe as their most vital one just because it was the heart. It was a hot, large lump in her hand, too big to fully close her hand around it, the last beats still trembling in it. She yanked it from the chest and stumbled away from the corpse. She wiped the blood off her chin but probably only made it worse. And then she made her way back.

* * *

The _nagual_ were celebrating. Two of their four boys had returned with successful prey. The men were dead, yes, but only two of them had managed to restrain themselves enough to harvest a healthy organ and not rip everything to shreds. Talia had watched and described to Deucalion as the two boys returned with their prey, presenting it to Santiago and Donovan respectfully. A liver and a kidney. Both important, vital organs that would earn them respectable positions among their people. The men had accepted and the organs were thrown in the fire, sending up golden sparks and the scent of burning meat, making the remaining wolves howl in celebration.

No sign of Lyka.

One boy who had failed his initiation returned, saying he had encountered Lyka in the woods, they had battled over a human and then he had lost sight of her. Talia was worried. Very much so in fact. Because if the girl failed, they would not only lose valuable allies, they would lose friends. And, perhaps, they would lose every chance of peace they had. If Lyka failed and Deucalion's pack was forced to join the _nagual_, the alliance would fight them tooth and nail. All the efforts they had made, all the efforts _Deucalion_ had made, would fly right out of the window.

But he remained confident. She wanted to yell at him to wake up, see that Lyka wasn't who he thought she was. That she was just a girl and he had demanded too much of her too soon, that his high expectations of her had probably driven her mad or driven her away. She probably was running for her life now, never to be seen again.

Or so she thought.

The full moon had almost disappeared behind the trees when the entire celebration came to a sudden halt. A bloodied figure had reached the clearing. A slender framed girl, hair sticky with blood and dirt, shoes long since gone. Deucalion rose to his feet. He would have recognised her scent everywhere, even mixed with so much blood. Silence fell over the clearing and only his voice in a low whisper directed at Talia could be heard.

"How does she look?"

"She's... covered in blood, head to toe. Her hair is sticky, her shoes are gone... she's holding a heart, Deucalion. A human heart. It's still warm, I think, it's steaming," Talia explained, her voice hardly even a whisper. She couldn't even really believe her eyes.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" he asked. Talia nodded.

"Yes. Yes she is."

Lyka stepped closer to the fire to meet Donovan and Santiago there, both grinning proud and impressed.

"Well done. You truly are a McCall," Donovan said proudly. The sound of his voice disgusted Deucalion. As if it was _his_ work, that Lyka was who she was now. As if he had anything to do with it. That was what he did, wasn't it? Donovan McCall waited until people were shaped to perfection, to something he could use, then he claimed them as his own. Like he did with the blind Alpha now, now that he had become what he was on his own will. Now he would do the same with Lyka. Now that she had proven herself, delivered a heart – the most vital of organs – that would easily win her one of the highest ranks among the pack. _Now_ she suddenly was good enough for him? It was disgusting.

Lyka stared at both her grandfather and uncle a moment, both awaiting her to offer her prey to them to complete the ritual. Her expression was blank. She wasn't even sure if she was entirely... human yet. Felt like there was something of the beast forever left in her consciousness. And she just knew then that every full moon from today on would be a piece of cake. Because the beast didn't fight her anymore and she didn't fight it. They had come to terms. They were the same. She _was_ the beast. And right now there was too much adrenalin in her system to be scared of herself.

She stared at the heart in her hand a moment. Then decided to offer it to her _Superior._ Not her grandfather. Not her uncle. But the man she had killed for. And gladly would kill for again. She walked right past the two _nagual_ who were mildly confused by her complete lack of interest in either of them. And immediately she saw Talia step back.

"She's coming towards you," the Hale Alpha whispered to Deucalion before she stepped aside. Deucalion waited calmly until he knew Lyka was almost directly in front of him.

"I bring you an offering," she said. And suddenly, the _nagual_ sprang into motion.

"No! This is not how the initiation works. You are required to offer your prey to-"

"To my Superior," Lyka interrupted the warning of Donovan McCall. She turned towards him and her ice cold glare was enough to make him fall silent. She turned back towards Deucalion. "Will you accept me, a _nagual_, in your pack?"

For a moment, everyone seemed to hold their breaths. Because this changed everything. This tore the battlefield up completely. She had taken the _status quo_ and thrown it out of the window. But eventually, he raised a hand, extended it towards her so she could place the heart in his hand. Talia had been right, the organ was still warm. Heavier than expected. He could practically feel Donovan McCall's little castle collapse under him and that alone was worth it. The satisfaction of knowing that he had just simultaneously denied him his granddaughter and himself was... thrilling. Vendetta, after all, felt incredibly good. And just because he could, because he knew it would drive McCall crazy, when he took the heart he leaned closer to her and briefly pressed his lips onto hers – almost missing them, but only almost. He could taste the blood on her lips, felt her flinch away from the touch a little, surely because the terror of that night, the bloodshed and murder, still sat deep in her bones. She'd need healing. He was glad this ordeal was over.

And with one movement, he threw the heart in the fire. There was no howling, no celebration. Because they had basically just emasculated the highest _nagual_ in front of his entire pack. He was quite sure this would eventually get back at him. But for now, they had won. He placed an arm around Lyka, pulled her close, could feel that she was shaken up. He'd get her out of here, would not stay a moment longer. But he did turn to McCall once.

"I expect your support when we establish negotiations with the Argent's."

He heard McCall grit his teeth but the truth was, he had no choice.

"I gave my word. A _nagual_ keeps his word."

Deucalion nodded and then led Lyka away from the fire. Talia followed them. They walked in the darkness for a long time until Lyka suddenly stopped. His hand brushed over her face and he could feel she was crying, tears silently streaming down her face. He pulled her into his arms, her head resting against his chest as she cried and he caressed her hair.

"It's over. You'll never have to do this again, I promise," he whispered.

They stood like this for a long time, until she had calmed down enough to move. Then they left the forest for good. And he for what it was worth, he kept his word. She'd never have to do it again.

* * *

**Author's note:**

_So many characters on Teen Wolf keep talking about ripping other people's throats out with their teeth. So yeah, about time someone actually did it. Apologies for excessive violence BUT you have been warned. A lot. Next chapter will be far less violent, promise ;) It'll be a treat after this one._

_Leave a review or send me a message, chapter specific or the fic in general, doesn't matter to me, I just really love hearing what you guys think! _


	13. Aftermath

**Smut ahead, consider yourself warned. but actually, you've all been waiting for it, don't even lie.**

* * *

**Aftermath**

There were a lot of meetings in the days to come. The pack discussing their future actions, Talia and Deucalion arguing about how they would proceed, Marco being an annoying prick about basically every decision Deucalion made. At every chance presented, the Beta would challenge Deucalion's authority and the patience with which their Alpha handled things was growing thin. Lyka could see it. She could see he was tired. The rings under his eyes were darker, he seemed paler than usual, seemed to sleep less.

Lyka did not much participate in these conversations herself. Because everyone knew her point of view. Deucalion commanded, she followed. The others respected it. They treated her differently since the initiation. She was not like them anymore and they knew it. Something had changed and she didn't talk about it. Not to Statler, not to Waldorf, not even Deucalion. Not even Liv. Her best friend had noticed of course. When she had come home after the full moon – after having showered off the blood at the warehouse. She hadn't asked because she knew Lyka would tell her when she wanted to and before that, there was no point in prying. But so far, Lyka had not dared speak about it.

The _nagual_ had left the area after assuring their support for the negotiations officially. The Hale family had returned to Beacon Hills as well, as had all the other packs. Boston was theirs again and things were actually looking up. Still, there were tensions. In the pack. When they all gathered again after the full moon, Deucalion brought up his intention to contact the Argent Matriarch as soon as possible. The woman was, according to his sources, currently living in a private home on the west coast, by the beach, in comfortable retirement and he intended to seek her out there. This plan was followed by momentary awkward silence before Marco declared:

"This is bullshit."

Susan gasped, yet the younger Beta couldn't be stopped. "The last time we tried to play nice with the Argent's we ended up being royally fucked. I am not supporting this."

"Your Alpha has made a choice, Marco, you are obliged to follow," Waldorf reminded the younger man.

"I am not obliged to do anything. When did this pack stop being a democracy? Just because we have a _nagual_ now doesn't change the fact that the Argent's are crazy. I get the whole… negotiate peace crap, believe me, I do. But I think trying to talk to the Matriarch eye-to-eye is just stupid. She'll be waiting with her little hunter army and fry us the moment we show up on her doorstep."

Deucalion listened to Marco's rant calmly, then shook his head.

"She won't. Just trust me on this one."

"I trusted you last time, look where that got us?" Marco snapped.

"Yeah, where did it get you, Marco? Oh right, it got you second in command. Why with Carter dead, one could almost say the failed first negotiation was… suspiciously convenient for you," Waldorf growled. Eyes were flashing, Marco almost jumped across the room to attack Waldorf.

"Are you insinuating I planned this?!"

"I am saying that it is a little strange that two of us were killed, Deucalion ends up blind, and you don't even have a scratch to show from the whole thing."

They were both roaring by now and it took both Lyka and Statler to hold Waldorf, while Paul had Marco's arm, holding the young Beta back. Marco raised a finger warningly, pointing at Deucalion.

"He's going to get us all killed with his vision of peace! The Matriarch will laugh at him before she rips us all a new one!"

"Enough!"

Deucalion's voice roared through the warehouse in a volume they had never even known was possible. The entire building seemed to shake, the concussive sound made the windows crack and made the pack flinch back, cowering alarmed. Lyka had never seen him so angry. For a brief moment, he seemed to be more beast than she had ever thought he was capable of, almost nothing human left in him. She saw that behind his glasses, his eyes were bright red and somehow he had cracked the glasses. Both of them this time. She remembered the fight he had with her father, seemingly an eternity ago, where this had happened before. Then she had attributed it to coincidence, a freak accident. Now… she was not so sure anymore. In fact, she was now convinced he had done it with his own raging anger. With a power sleeping within him they had not yet known to be real.

He calmed down after the initial outburst, took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. His shoulders were tense, he was exhausted, she could tell. None of the Beta's dared to speak, they were anxiously awaiting his response. But he decided not to respond at all. He put his glasses back on. "My decision is final. I will contact the Matriarch and you will, as my Beta's, support my decision. Or face the consequences."

"Consequences?" Marco asked sceptically. A moment later, Deucalion had crossed the room so quickly that the others didn't quite believe their own eyes. He had grabbed Marco by the throat, pressed him against the wall.

"Yes, Marco, consequences," he growled. Marco gasped for breath and Deucalion let go off him, turned away. His movements like a caged beast. He crossed the room again, headed for the door. "Princess."

Lyka looked up and realised the same moment that she reacted to his silly nickname, it almost made her a little angry, but she couldn't help but follow him, offer her shoulder for him to hold on to.

"You know I support your decision. I owe you," she clarified, before he could say anything. He nodded weakly.

"I know. I'd be a fool to doubt your loyalty. I called you to ask if you'd mind driving me home?"

"Of course not!" she declared and turned around once. Statler had already tossed the car keys at her and she caught them easily, leading Deucalion out of the room. They left the pack behind and she had to rely on Waldorf to hold the ground against Marco and his incitements.

* * *

They drove quietly. She had never been to Deucalion's home, but she knew the address was in the locker in the car, Statler had shown her when he had given her first instructions on how to treat his car. It was a nice area of town, very nice actually. She knew that because Liv's parents lived in the area as well and in their street, there lived only wealthy plastic surgeons or high-end lawyers. At a traffic light, he suddenly spoke up, startling her momentarily.

"How are you?" he asked calmly.

"I'm um... good, I suppose..." she replied, confused by his question. But when the words had left her lips she realised why he had asked. And she could taste the bitter memory of blood in her mouth. She gulped it down, pulled a grimace. "You mean because of the initiation..."

"You killed a man. That leaves wounds."

"He wasn't a man. At least... that's what I keep telling myself. He was prey. And he had surely done terrible things to deserve being there. It... had to be done..." she explained, even to herself it sounded like weak excuses. She looked over at him quickly. "Have you... ever killed someone?"

"What would make you think otherwise?" he inquired.

"I don't know... you just seem so... peaceful..."

"I have darkness in me, Lyka. I just chose not to let it win," he admitted and she noticed that it was one of the very rare occasions that he used her name instead of calling her Princess. Somehow, it meant more to her than she could describe.

The building they eventually reached was a high office building with a porter on a very busy street.

"Damn… this is a really nice place. Where do you live?"

"The penthouse, I'm afraid," he admitted.

"Are you kidding me? We live in a run-down abandoned warehouse and you lounge in the penthouse?"

He smirked and shrugged.

"I offered them to get them a place here, but most of them didn't want to. Apparently the warehouse fits more with their idea of wild and free."

"Guess so."

She parked the car and he got out.

"You wouldn't mind…"

He didn't even have to finish his question when he heard her open the door, lock the car. A moment later she took his hand on her shoulder to guide him inside. People made way for them as he made excessive use of his cane for a change, acting much more helpless than he was. The porter greeted him politely and let them in, even called the elevator for them and when they got in, Deucalion was already taking out his key card.

"So, um… I have to ask… are you… rich?"

"The one good thing my family did for me," he admitted with a shrug. The elevator silently took them up; they stood a bit awkward in the cabin with annoying music playing softly from the speakers until finally, they arrived at the penthouse. They crossed the entrance and walked into a marvellous living room. Large, elegantly furnished, most of it white with chocolate or cappuccino coloured highlights such as a very large, very comfortable looking couch in front of a huge TV. Hardly anything was high enough to hit your head on it, most of the furniture was clearly aligned to accommodate the fact that the owner of this place was blind. But overall it was so aesthetically pleasing that she just knew he had this place already when he still had been able to see it. There was a large, modern kitchen that looked like it was hardly used. A glass front overlooking the entire city led from the living room to the roof and there were two more doors, probably leading to the bathroom and bedroom. Only on the second look over the place did she notice the beautiful grand piano in the living room. Not that she played herself, God forbid, but somehow it did not surprise her at all that he did. Sheet music was lying on the instrument and a metronome stood next to them.

"You play piano, why am I not surprised," she noted, not even as a question.

"Used to. Haven't in a while," he admitted when he sat down on the couch and took off his shoes and broken glasses. She stepped away from the piano.

"Perhaps I… should go. Let you get some rest," she suggested and was already halfway across the room by then.

"What if he's right though?"

His question made her come to a full stop and turn around slowly, confused. "Marco. I know that you will follow every decision I make. But I want your honest opinion, irrespective of your loyalty. Am I a fool to believe this peace is possible?"

She shook her head.

"No! No, it's a good thing, a wonderful thing! Don't let Marco get you down, he just loves to get on your nerves and annoy everyone! This truce you're working for… it's a wonderful thing."

Was she repeating herself? Possibly. She just didn't find words to sufficiently express how strongly she believed in his vision. He smiled.

"I know that my faith in the Matriarch seems misplaced after what Gerard did. But I know she's not like him. I _know_ she will listen."

She sighed a little.

"I… know it's not my place to ask. Especially since I know next to nothing about the Argent's. But everything I've heard about them is horrible. What makes you so… certain that she will listen to you?"

He hesitated and she already regretted asking, was sure she had overstepped her boundaries, half expected him to send her out. But eventually he sighed.

"Because… she is my mother."

Of all the possible answers she had expected, that had definitely been the last. He heard her gasp and it made him smirk. "Shocking, isn't it?"

"But… but…"

"I've never told anyone. The only one who knows is Richard Hale and... well, your grandfather. I was a child; I was barely six years old when I was bitten. A foolish boy, who wanted to be a hunter like his mother and father ahead of his time. But… one day, my family got into a conflict with a pack of _nagual_ and several hunters were slaughtered. My father and I… were both bitten by their Alpha. My father, Alexander Argent, Gerard's brother, knew he was going to turn come the next full moon, and as it is code among the Argents… he took his own life. But I was a child. I didn't understand. My family debated killing me before I turned. The former Matriarch demanded I'd be dead before the next full moon. My mother refused. She was being pressured, told that if she didn't do it, she'd never be Matriarch herself and that the family would take care of her… _lenience_ instead. She chased me away. I know now she did it to save my life, she even made sure I was safe afterwards and once time had passed she made sure I had everything I needed to live a good life. But then… then I was a confused, scared child, I didn't know what was happening, what I was becoming… I had undergone two full moons before the Hale's found me and took me in. But the point is… I _know_ Allison Argent. I know she's a good woman, I _know_ she will listen to us."

She had silently listened to his story and the more he said, the more she contemplated. Why was he telling her? Why be so honest with her with something that clearly made him feel… vulnerable? Something he had never told anyone. A secret he might have thought he'd take to his grave. Why share it with her? While she was still in thoughts about that, he had raised a hand, reaching for her and she came closer, took his hand.

"Why did you tell me?" she asked when his fingers brushed over the back of her hand gently. And suddenly she was very aware that they were alone in his penthouse. _Entirely_ alone. And it made her wonder why he had asked her to take him here in the first place? Why not Statler?

"Because I needed you to know. I _need_ your support. I _need_ to know that you're with me."

"Deucalion, I have _always_ been with you. But I need you to tell me _why_," she demanded, no force behind her words but she would not let this go, not this time, not now, not after everything. She deserved to know, she was pretty sure she had earned the right. Yet he didn't reply. Instead, he pulled her closer abruptly, making her stumble onto the couch, half on his lap, before he had his other hand in her neck and pulled her into a kiss.

She sighed against his lips. This time when she wrapped her arms around his neck, there was no hesitation, no uncertainty when she deepened the kiss. She slid one leg over him to straddle him and with her lips on his, her fingertips were caressing his temples. And incredibly relaxing sensation. "Why me?" she was breathing against his lips then.

"Who else?" he growled, pulling her closer, her body against his with no room between them. And everything they had wanted to talk about, everything she had wanted to ask, everything he had wanted to tell her, was completely forgotten. Instinct took over. The oldest, most basic instinct. She could hear his growl deep in his chest, felt his voice vibrate against her body. His hands wandered under her shirt, tracing up her sides, brushing over her skin. He pulled the shirt off over her head and closed the distance between their lips again, so suddenly that it almost hurt and made her moan. She had one hand in his hair, the other was tugging at his shirt, hungry, with the need to feel his skin against hers. But before she could get the shirt off him, he had pushed her back, down onto the couch, and he was on top of her.

His lips left hers, wandered to her chin, down her neck, making her arch her back towards him. She tried to suppress the moans with very little success and he enjoyed that. He enjoyed the sound of her losing her composure, enjoyed the taste of her skin, the feeling of her hands that didn't seem to know what to do – try to pull his shirt off or run through his hair or try to feel his skin or-

She realised how comparably inexperienced she was. Please, what did High School boys and college freshmen have on him? Nothing. This was not like that awkward first time she had shared with her High School boyfriend, with whom she had ended things basically right after graduation. Or that silly fling she had had in her first week at University. Deucalion was completely in control, of himself and of her, no uncoordinated kisses or clumsy touches. He knew exactly what he was doing and she knew she was completely at his mercy. And she enjoyed it.

He felt the hem of her bra – no fancy, lacy fabric, just functional and completely irrelevant because he intended to get the garment off as soon as possible. He reached around her with one arm, found the hooks and for some reason she was not even surprised that his clever fingers had them open within moments. But she used his momentary distraction to sit up and finally get that shirt off him, sent it flying halfway across the room. She barely had time to appreciate his marvellous body then – his muscular torso, the way his every move cast sensual shadows on his skin – before he was pushing her down again. He was the Alpha, _he_ was in charge and he allowed no challenge to that.

He dropped her bra on the floor next to the couch, cupped her breasts with his hands, feeling her, and in that way 'seeing' her. Her firm, yet soft curves. His thumbs circled her nipples – hard, yet tender like flower buds – before his lips reached her breasts as well. His thorough kisses, his tongue, teasing her, making her throw her head back, helpless moans escaping her lips and he could feel her nails dig into his back. Not deep enough to hurt, but enough for him to know. She was responsive, that was good. It meant she would let him know when he did the right thing.

He wandered deeper, kissing past her navel, making her eyes flutter close. He opened her jeans and with one powerful move had both her jeans and underwear pulled off her. She gasped surprised but didn't have time to feel exposed because by then, he was already kissing her again. Her right knee this time, while his fingertips wandered over her left leg, from her ankle upwards, drawing burning lines on her smooth skin. His lips, much slower so, traced up on the inside of her thigh, the sensation, the _anticipation_, making her dizzy. She was quite sure she was whimpering, was sure by the end of this night she would almost _beg_ him to stop. Almost.

She lost all coherent thought when his lips reached her sex. A most intriguing sound mixed with a curse escaped her lips and it made him smirk a little while his lips kept exploring her, devouring her. She had her fingers in his hair, the other hand covering her mouth in a pointless attempt to keep herself silent and it made him reach up to pull that hand away, holding her wrist almost rough enough to bruise. He wanted to hear her. If he couldn't see the pleasure on her face, he at least wanted to hear her.

"I… _oh God_ I need…"

He raised his head, pulled away from her taste, her heat, her wetness, at the sound of her voice.

"What do you need?" he asked, his voice husky and raw. She was struggling for words, struggling to at least be a little coherent but eventually she managed to get her demand out.

"I _need_ you to take off your damn clothes!" she declared. He chuckled, deeply satisfied with the sound of her voice. She was pulling on his belt and he complied. Realised there was no point in holding back. He wanted her, just as much as she wanted him. Right now. He released the belt, kicked his clothes off and only moments later she had pulled him closer. He felt her skin on his, she wrapped her legs around him and he pulled her closer, his cock pressing against her before he thrust into her. He felt her almost wolf out, her claws digging into his back, now actually a little painful, breaking skin, and she threw her head back, something between a moan and a scream escaping her lips. It was bordering on painful to have him in her, but much more so it felt perfect, it was _exactly_ where he was supposed to be. He growled deep in his chest, his dark voice mixing with her sweet gasps and sighs. The sensation was exquisite, intense; she was beautifully tight and hot around him. He buried his face at the nape of her neck, surrounded by the scent of her skin and her hair, letting his every sense be overwhelmed by her – her scent, the taste of her skin, the sound of her moans, the feeling of her touch, his every nerve primed to her. He kept thrusting into her, slow and deep, and she moved her hips to meet his. He nibbled her neck, teeth almost breaking skin, leaving red marks on her and she dragged her claws across his back, leaving her mark on him just as well.

His thrusts grew harder and she was reaching her climax, he could tell. Her voice was breaking in a cry of pleasure, her walls tightening around him, making him suddenly dizzy with the feel of her. There were sparks of colour in the darkness of his vision and she was hypnotised by the red glow of his eyes, her lips on his when they both were at the height of their pleasure. There, for a moment, just a split second before he found release, he was absolutely convinced he _saw_ her. Not what he imagined her to be, but _her_. In the red light of his Alpha eyes, saw the pleasure on her face, her body pressed against his, saw that beauty of hers. The moment was just brief but it was what ultimately sent him over the edge.

The darkness that followed seemed much deeper and much hollower than ever before, just because of that tease of a vision he had never thought he'd be allowed to see. They were both out of breath, skin covered in sweat, her breath in short, hot pants against his lips, and she was shaking, shivering. Compared to the actually rough, powerful sex they had just had, he was now extremely gentle when he caressed her hair, worry on his face.

"Are you all right?"

He felt a breathless laugh.

"I am… more than alright…" she admitted before she brought her lips to his again, kissing him. His hands on her skin, his arms wrapped around her, holding her close. He brushed her hair back, kissed her earlobe and it made her chuckle. But eventually she turned his face to meet hers. "You still haven't properly answered. Why me?"

He smiled. And said what she had wanted to hear from him all this time.

"Because you _are_ my Queen."

She sighed with what could only be described as relief and leaned closer to him. With his arms around her, he leaned back and they rested close to each other. It wasn't the infamous _'I love you'_ but for some reason, she knew these words meant more. Because she had said it for weeks, she had tried to make him see it for what seemed like all her life and – in a way – that was exactly what it was. And finally he admitted. That she was more than just his Princess. So much more.

He brushed her hair back so he could kiss her forehead, still inhaling her scent.

"What's your name though?"

"What?" he asked irritated.

"My grandfather said you called yourself Deucalion _now_. I take it you had a different name before the Hale's found you? Would you… let me know?"

He hesitated a long time before he finally gave in.

"Noah. Noah Argent."

_Noah,_ she repeated in her head. And suddenly, he sat up. She looked up alarmed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be nosy."

He turned towards her and pulled her into his arms.

"Oh I am not kicking you out. I am just going to carry you to the bedroom," he explained when he got up. She chuckled, arms wrapped around his neck, soft kisses on his ear, his cheek, his jaw line as he carried her across the room, knowing exactly how many steps it took in what direction to find the bedroom door, where he dropped her on the bed. This night was far from over.

* * *

**Author's note:**

_Gosh I have not written smut in a very, very long time O.O was it really bad? if so, I apologise. I really can't judge it properly anymore (thank you, , for ruining my perception of what is appropriate to write in a book and what isn't…). But Deucalion's point of view is super interesting because he can't see, so there is a much larger focus on the other senses and not so much on visual descriptions (which can be really kinky, but that's something for later :D) If it's any consolation, there will be more such scenes, so it'll probably get better ;) _

_Also yeay, plot twist alert! Deucalion is actually an Argent! I still really want that to be true. Or at least I want him to have been a Hunter before he became a wolf. It's just something I could really, really get behind!_

_I was really scared to watch this week's episode because I knew from tumblr that we were going to learn Mystery Girl's actual name and possibly her back story and I realised I didn't really want to know because I was afraid it would potentially ruin my universe. But then I decided that I prefer alternate universes anyways and I didn't want to miss Stydia and the first encounter between Lydia and Peter after what happened in season 2 and Scott's dad and there was just so much about this episode I wanted to see that it sort of outweighed the things I didn't want to see. So yeah, I watched it. And, of course, I loved it :D We didn't learn to much about Mystery Girl other than her name so my headcanon still holds. I might actually tailor some of the things to happen in the future of this fic so that it may fit with canon by the time we reach the present. Just a little. You'll see._

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, leave a comment or a message, don't hesitate to critique. And keep coming back for more ^^ _


	14. Beginnings

**Beginnings**

She was momentarily confused when she woke up on a bed that was easily three times the size of her little dorm bed. She was completely naked under a thin, light cover. And a heavy arm was wrapped around her waist from behind, a strong chest at her back, warm breath in her neck. She wiggled a little, to half turn around and found Deucalion next to her, now almost face to face. A happy smile crept onto her face. It had actually been real. Not a crazy fantasy she had made up in her mind. She had spent the night at his place, with him. Now he was asleep by her side, his features more relaxed than she had ever seen them and she couldn't help but scoot a little closer to place two soft kisses on his eyelids, hardly touching them. When she tried to get out of bed, he tightened his arm around her and pulled her back towards him.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked in a low, sleepy growl. She chuckled.

"I was going to make us breakfast," she admitted. He pressed his lips to the side of her neck, letting them rest there for a moment before he eventually released her.

"I have nothing in the kitchen; I can't cook so I usually order in. Feel free to order whatever you like," he explained as he rolled to his back when she climbed out of bed. She looked back at him from the door, his body sprawled out on the mattress like an invitation and she bit her lip to suppress the girlish giggle she felt coming up before she finally did leave the bedroom. On the way, she grabbed her panties and shirt. Where the hell was her bra? Oh, over there, by the couch. Their clothes were literally scattered all over the living room. Well, she didn't care right now. She went to the kitchen in her underpants and tank top, brushing her bed-hair back with her fingers and then checked the fridge and cupboards. He had not lied. He had literally nothing in his kitchen but a large pile of menu's ordered by type of meal from breakfast to midnight snack. She chuckled, shook her head, then did eventually pick a place to order from, just down the street. She called, ordered breakfast for two, which would be here in fifteen minutes.

Just when she hung up, she felt hands on her hips, then arms wrap around her and she was gently pulled against his body. Lips on her shoulder, soft, sweet, melting. She smiled, leaning against him and turned her head to brush her lips over his temple. Yes, this was it, this was perfect. She could get so used to that! Waking up next to him, having breakfast here, sweet kisses in the morning. That was something she'd love to do every day for the rest of her life.

"I hate ruining this morning with pack business talk... but I was thinking we need to take at least Waldorf, Marco and Marin with us to meet the Matriarch," he then said.

"Marin? The ominous Emissary I've never met?"

He smirked.

"I have the feeling the Hunters will be much more accommodating if we bring our Emissary. After all, that's their role."

She nodded. She had heard about Emissaries from Talia in one of their many lessons. They were druids – essentially witches and warlocks with a powerful connection to the forces of nature – who functioned as advisors to packs of werewolves and were considered as their 'link' to humanity. She had never met their packs Emissary – Marin Morrell. Deucalion said he usually consulted her alone, because there was a general scepticism towards 'magic' among the pack and additionally, Marin didn't live in Boston, but all the way in Beacon Hills with her family. Her older brother was an Emissary to the Hale pack and Marin was in a way still learning from him.

"So we'll stop by Beacon Hills on the way to meet yo- the Matriarch?" she asked. She had for a moment considered saying 'your mother' but changed her mind halfway and he noticed that. He appreciated that she had gone for Matriarch instead. The whole family connection to the Argent's was not necessarily something he liked to talk about and the fact that she knew that was just another proof for him. How special she was, how connected they were. "But why do we take Marco along? He'll be a _pain_ in the ass..."

Deucalion laughed and nodded when he led her out of the kitchen with an arm around her waist. That way she noticed that he was wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs – which she actually considered to be a service just for her, so she actually got to look at him in the daylight, making the girlish grin return to her face. They sat down on the couch.

"I know, I know. But you see, keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer. I am not leaving him here alone where he can rally up the rest of my pack against me."

"Point taken," she admitted with a nod.

"I am leaving Statler in charge here to make sure the rest of the pack doesn't rally each other up as well."

"Yes, good, he'll like that," she replied sarcastically. Because she just knew Statler would be mad at them for leaving him alone to 'babysit' Paul, Abby, Liam and Susan.

"As for Marco, Waldorf will keep him in check. I will have all the time in the world for you."

"Oh?" she asked intrigued. He smirked when he leaned closer, planting soft kisses on her shoulder, her neck, before he turned her to face him so he could kiss her lips. He was impossibly gentle. She leaned towards him, her hands resting on his hard muscled chest. And then all restraint flew out the window. He wrapped his arm around her, pulled her closer so abruptly that she gasped, his lips crushing on hers in a fierce, burning kiss. Like they never wanted to part again. His other hand was caressing whatever skin he could find on her back, mostly her shoulder blades. She wrapped one arm around his neck, with the other hand she was caressing his face – the sharp cheekbones and jaw line. She had not closed her eyes but studied his features. The constantly worried frown between his brows, his very straight, very prominent nose. Really, there was nothing about his face that wasn't prominent. The line of his brows was intense; his cheekbones stood out sharply, casting distinct shadows on his cheeks; then of course his strong, angular jaw line and chin. She noticed the small wrinkles around his eyes, the dimples at the corners of his lips that might become wrinkles someday too. She had never taken this much time to study his features and now it just added to how handsome she thought he was. He had the sort of face that should be pressed on a coin, or carved in stone.

After what seemed like forever, just kissing and caressing skin, there was a ring on the door and she wanted to get up. Which he made extremely difficult by pulling her back into kisses again and again, making her chuckle. Finally however she did manage to get their breakfast from the deliver guy in the elevator, who hardly managed to name the price – she realised she was still basically in her underwear, poor guy probably didn't even know where to look without offending. They paid, the kid left and they had breakfast, before planning their Road Trip.

* * *

The following days were perfectly blissful. She was with him whenever time allowed it, hardly even went back to the dorm – only to get a change of clothes really. Leaving Liv a little in the dark about what she was doing and where. She spent the nights with him. In the beginning that had not involved much sleeping to be quite honest. But by now, it did. A state she enjoyed a lot. Falling asleep in his arms, waking up in them. Being kissed goodnight, and woken in the morning with a kiss.

Had they talked about it? Not really. She thought there'd have to be a conversation about it at some point, defining their relationship. But for some reason, she didn't think it was necessary. There was no question about their relationship.

The first day, she had returned to his penthouse completely out of intuition. Had literally found herself there by accident and was confused by it herself. When she had left the next morning she had asked if he would mind if she came back. He had smiled and had, without much thought, replied _'If it were in any way possible, I'd never have you leave'_. Cue the butterflies. Really, from that moment on she had decided she didn't care about defining the relationship. Instead she had just blatantly ignored every worrisome thing ahead of them – like the meeting with the Matriarch – and enjoyed her time with him. From ordering in dinner to getting intimately familiar with ever inch of his skin, until the lines blurred where she ended and he began. From long talks about God knows what to just sitting in silence together, from encouraging him to play something on his grand piano for her (and he played it so beautifully, it moved her to tears he had to kiss away afterwards) to her reading to him because he said he enjoyed her voice. She treasured every second. Time was limited, she knew that. They both did. That made it so precious.

Now, she was at the dorm and packed her things. Her boys – how Liv called them – were waiting outside by the car. Deucalion, Waldorf and Marco.

"I'll be back in maybe four weeks, I don't really know how long it's going to take all in all... Depends on how the talk with the Matriarch goes, I guess."

"And how exactly was I supposed to explain your little Road Trip to the University?" Liv asked in disbelief, watching the three men outside nervously.

"I don't know. Bird Flu?"

"Bird Flu? Really? That's what you're going with?" Liv asked sceptically. Then she threw her hands in the air. "I'll just say some distant aunt or something died and you had to travel over there. Can I really leave you alone with three men on the road for four weeks?"

Lyka turned towards Liv and laughed.

"Please, it's Waldorf and Marco. Besides, I doubt Deucalion would even let them near me. He's been rather... protective," she explained laughing and put a second pair of jeans in her travel bag. She really doubted Deucalion would even let anyone look at her funny.

"Huh... this wouldn't have anything to do with you not spending the nights here anymore lately?"

Lyka looked up again, casting her best friend a meaningful look. "Oooohhhhhh! OH M G how the hell did you keep this from me?! You're a thing? You're an actual thing, you and him?! Tell me everything! Every dirty detail! Is he good? Is it everything you thought it would be?"

"That and more," Lyka confirmed and both girls chuckled wildly. "I'd love to tell you everything but I really need to finish packing. We want to get to Cleveland today, so..."

"As soon as your back I want a full report. You're going on a Road Trip with him, I can't help but think there won't be a lot of Road Tripping going on. Poor Marco, poor Waldorf, having to put up with two new lovebirds!" Liv teased. They both laughed, but eventually Lyka did finish packing and joined the three other wolves by the car. Waldorf put her bag in the trunk, watched attentively as the two girls said their goodbye and eventually, the Blonde approached their Alpha. Deucalion smiled.

"Olivia," he greeted.

"I am counting on you to watch out for her. I always have my eyes on you. If I get any whim of you treating her bad, I _will_ come and get you," She warned. He still smiled.

"Yes, you've established that last time. I'll watch out for her, don't worry. She's not leaving my side," he replied and as if to make a point, he caught Lyka's arm as she was just about open the car door, pulled her closer. She stumbled towards him with a slightly surprised gasp. He put his arm around her, held her firmly by his side as he placed a kiss on her hair. Liv grinned.

"Aww... FYI, she's blushing. She's really, really cute when she blushes," she declared.

"It's true," Waldorf agreed with a grin.

"Can we _please_ just get in the car and drive? There'll be enough of this lovey-dovey crap over the next weeks so let's just get it over with," Marco grumbled and got in on the driver's side.

"I really don't know why we're putting up with this," Lyka sighed.

"Most of the times neither do I," Deucalion admitted with a sigh. He opened the car door and Lyka quickly kissed her best friend's cheek before she got in. Deucalion got in next to her, Waldorf took the passenger side. But not before he grinned at Liv once.

"Don't worry, we wouldn't let anything bad happen to our Cupcake."

"Good. Because I'd come for all of you!" Liv warned again. Waldorf laughed and finally got into the car himself. They drove off, Liv staying behind, watching them leave.

* * *

They were on the road for most of the day and as it had always been for Lyka, she fell asleep about when they had left the greater Boston area. Already as a child it had been the best way to get her to sleep and that hadn't changed. Twice she jumped back up, trying to stay awake until eventually, Deucalion pulled her closer, bedded her head on his shoulder and held her hands in his. Waldorf watched them through the rear-view mirror for a while before he spoke up.

"So you chose her?"

Deucalion raised his head.

"It would appear so."

"Clearly. Your scent is all over her. I wouldn't be surprised if by the time we reach Beacon Hills every wolf in the country knows she's yours," Waldorf noted. Deucalion nodded a little. He had noticed it too. In the few days past, Lyka had spent most her time with him. She had left for her classes in the morning, studied, then returned to him, had dinner with him, spent the night. Several days, the building manager already knew her. And her scent did change. It might be from the physical proximity to him, the intimacy, it might be because she spent so much time at his place, might be because she actually slept in a shirt of his. But fact was, her scent began to resemble his. As it was common between mates. He recalled it from Talia and Hector. Paul and Abigail.

He just never... he'd never thought he would enjoy that so much. The thought that every wolf who came across her would instantly be able to tell she was his and if they messed with her, they messed with him. The thought that she was... part of his identity, and he part of hers.

Did it add stress to this visit to his home, to his former family? Yes, tremendously. He was putting her in danger, of course. The Argent's were a force to be reckoned with and no matter how much he trusted in the Matriarch's common sense, he knew there was enough potential in this visit to cause deep and utter chaos. But being without her? No. Out of the question. He had barely been able to think of anything else when she was away the past days, had treasured every minute she was with him. Leaving her in Boston while he went to negotiate this truce? No, unthinkable. Also, she'd probably go ballistic if he excluded her from the venture. So it was better this way, everyone was happy.

Waldorf's voice called him out of his thoughts again. "I like it. It was about time you found a mate. Start having super pretty Alpha babies, you two."

Deucalion chuckled a little, yet when the sound seemed to startle Lyka in her sleep, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, caressed her hair until she had drifted off into a deep slumber again.

"Waldorf, my friend, you know I treasure your approval, but I have to say: thinking about children is perhaps a _bit_ hasty."

Waldorf grinned.

"How long have I known you now, Boss? Ten years? Fifteen even? You're not the man who has meaningless fun. If you chose her, I am guessing you chose her for life. So someday – be it a year or two or ten – there is going to be family planning. Can I just ask why? I mean... did you choose her with this in mind, when you bit her? Or did something change."

Deucalion didn't respond for a while, leaving his Beta curious until eventually he smiled.

"I really don't know. And it really doesn't matter. This is where we are now. And there's nowhere I'd rather be."

"Man you really have a talent of avoiding answering other people's questions, don't you?"

Deucalion was still just smiling and Waldorf knew he wouldn't get any more out of him. So he shrugged and focused on the road travelling past them. It was quiet in the car until Marco turned on the radio, just loud enough to have some entertainment, not too loud to wake Lyka.

"Thank you for agreeing to join us, Marco. I know you're opposing the idea of contacting the Argent's. That you're here still means a lot," Deucalion eventually mentioned. Marco shrugged.

"Someone has to be there to do damage control when shit hits the fan," he commented. Deucalion just nodded, Waldorf grinned. And then they were quiet again.

By the time Lyka woke they were halfway in Cleveland, had switched drivers once so Marco sat on the passenger side now, absent-mindedly staring out of the window.

"Welcome back Sleeping Beauty," Deucalion teased with a smile.

"How long was I out?"

"About two hours."

She yawned, then leaned back against their Alpha. She saw him smile and it made her smile in turn. Marco sighed loudly.

"You two are so cute, I want to vomit."

"I can drive a bit, that way we'd tune down the cuteness for a while, hm? And Waldorf can stretch his legs," Lyka suggested.

"Great idea, we'll switch at the next stop!"

And so their travel continued. The first part of a long trip with a very uncertain outcome.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Had a lot to do at work, so I am a bit delayed and the chapter is a bit... chaotic, I think. But some cute things I guess :D But now it's the weekend and next chapter will get better.

Everyone excited for the Midseason Finale? I know I am! haven't looked at the leak, I want it to be a surprise. Just had to make sure Deucalion was still alive, that's all I wanted to know, now I can have a stressful weekend anticipating Monday :D

Thank you for the reviews and messages, you guys rock. R.O.C.K. Rock! Keep'em coming guys, I really, really appreciate it!


	15. Mate

**Mate**

Their Road Trip went surprisingly smooth. For the most part at least.

At some point in time, Lyka sat down with Waldorf in a Motel room and he took out his tattoo equipment. With the instrument, he shot ink in her skin. Not much. A small symbol on the inside of her left wrist, right beneath her thumb. The triangular shape Deucalion used as symbol of their pack. _His_ symbol. _His_ mark. The little needle hurt. But according to Waldorf, that wasn't even the bad part. When he was done with the ink, they could literally watch the cells regenerate, skin covering up the tattoo within moments. It was painful – even worse than the ink itself. And then, when it was completely healed, Waldorf took out a torch and started burning off the skin on her arm. She screamed and cursed at him. It was a tiny tattoo but the pain! The pain was excruciating. Still, eventually, it was done. The ink permanent, the skin healing, yet keeping the tattoo visible. She inspected it proudly. Later that day, when she lay in bed with Deucalion, he brushed his fingertips over her wrist where he knew the new tattoo to be, kissed it, before he wrapped his arms around her and they fell asleep together.

That was also the night he had the first nightmare with her in the room. Up until then, he had been able to keep his mind so alert, so focused on her presence, that the dreams stayed away. But not this time. For some reason, this night he was overwhelmed. Maybe because he was getting to comfortable around her, maybe because it was just time.

She woke in the middle of the night because he was tossing and turning. She heard rain outside the motel room, distant rolling thunder. Deucalion seemed to try to get away from something but couldn't move, he was mumbling, difficult to understand. She sat up, carefully touched his arm, whispered his name. He was struggling, she could tell. He was burning up, sweat forming on his face. She was uncertain what to do, worry took over. She kept whispering his name, caressed his forehead, his face, tried to wake him from whatever was plaguing him. Suddenly, his eyes flew open and she wanted to be relieved that he had woken up. But he hadn't. His eyes were burning red, so bright that they lit the entire room. And there it was again. The force they had witnessed days ago, when he had interrupted Waldorf and Marco's fight. The room shook, the entire building perhaps. Lyka screamed in shock and fell off the bed, covering her ears, crouching on the floor as the windows of their room burst into millions of tiny pieces. The mirrors, the light bulbs, even the TV screen. Everything made of glass just exploded. She screamed.

And he woke up.

Like a sudden shock through his system, his awareness returned. Instantly, the power ceased. Lyka sat on the floor, terrified. Scared out of her mind. But he had set up, looked so confused, so lost.

"Lyka... Lyka?" he asked, his hands searching for her on the bed. He sounded as scared as she felt, whispering her name like he was terrified of being alone. She got to her feet, though her knees were shaking, came closer. She sat on the bed again, he felt the weight change then felt her hands meet his.

"I'm here. I'm right here..." she whispered. Her voice was shaking. Her heart racing. She was scared. He could smell it, could feel it.

"I'm sorry... I... I didn't mean to frighten you... I..."

"It's okay... It's okay..." she whispered when she wrapped her arms around him, held him close. He returned the embrace, held her so tight like a drowning man would a rescuing branch. So close he almost hurt her, made it difficult to breathe. He apologised again and again and she silently caressed his hair, kissed his temple. Yet the shock sat deep in her bones.

They lay down, his head resting on her chest, listening to her heartbeat as it steadied.

"I could have hurt you... I am a danger to you..." he whispered, more to himself. Right now, just as scared as she was. What if he hadn't woken up? What if he had attacked her in his sleep? Strangled her? Ripped her to pieces? He'd go crazy. That's what would happen. He'd lose his mind. Yet he couldn't bring himself to tell her to leave him, to get her own room, to sleep somewhere where he couldn't hurt her. Because he'd just as surely lose his mind if he was without her. And no matter how much he knew she should push him away, all she did was hold him closer.

"Don't. You won't hurt me, I know that," she whispered, stretched to kiss his hair. "But I need to know what caused this."

"I have... nightmares... of the day he took my eyes. I am sorry I scared you, I..."

"Shhhh..."

She shook her head a little, caressed his face. "Sleep. If the nightmares come, remember that I am here. I am right here with you. We'll get through this," she assured him. And so they stayed. He slept to the sound of her heartbeat. She didn't sleep. She guarded.

* * *

Finally, they reached their destination. Beacon Hills.

She had never been there but what little she saw on their stop here, the town was quaint. It was a nice evening, the sun just setting, dipping the town in orange light.

They would stay here for a day, meeting with the Hale's, then they'd pick up their Emissary and meet with the Matriarch tomorrow.

The Hale house lay somewhat outside of town, in the woods, secluded but beautiful. They had driven up a winding road and could look over the valley where the town was located romantically. The Hale house was a lovely building, a family home that radiated life even from the distance. When they parked the car outside, they saw the door already open and a little girl standing there, waiting for them. She looked overly excited in her flowery dress, jumping up and down happily right until Deucalion had left the car.

"Uncle Duke!" she called out then and ran down the steps of the porch towards them. Deucalion laughed when he recognised the voice and crouched a little to embrace the girl who had run towards him. She threw her arms around him and he easily picked her up from the floor.

"Hello sweetie. It's been so long."

"Look what I made you! It's a flower crown!" the girl declared and proudly held out a crown of pink and yellow flowers woven with some green leafs.

"Oh so lovely. Will you help me put it on?"

The girl reached up, Deucalion bowed his head down a little so she could properly place the crown on his dark blond hair. "Thank you so much MyLady, it is an honour."

The girl giggled happily and Lyka couldn't help but wonder if she even realised he was blind. If she realised how much it seemed to hurt him that he couldn't see the crown she had made for him, that he couldn't see her. Deucalion turned towards Lyka.

"Lyka, this is Cora – Talia's youngest. Cora, this is Lyka, she's part of my pack now," he introduced, his voice at its softest.

Cora looked over at her, critically inspecting her.

"I like your hair. Do you also want a flower crown?" she then asked.

"I would _love_ a flower crown!" Lyka declared.

"Then I'll go and make you one. And you too, uncle Waldorf!"

Deucalion put the girl down and off she ran to pick new flowers around the house. When he rose again, Talia Hale was standing in the door, intently watching the group as they approached the house. She had her arms crossed over her chest, then kicked the door open wide.

"Come in. You're just in time for dinner."

She watched them very closely when they crossed the porch and the moment Deucalion stepped past her, she grabbed his arm. "What happened?" she asked sternly. He raised his brows confused, Lyka looked back at him worried.

"Everything alright?" she asked.

"Laura, show our guests to the parlour, Deucalion and I need to talk."

Talia didn't even look at Lyka when she spoke. She saw Laura come out of the kitchen, looking from her mother and Deucalion to Lyka and back, then she smiled at Lyka, took her arm and led her away. Which Lyka found incredibly strange and upsetting.

Talia had her arms crossed over her chest again and was waiting for him to talk. When he didn't she eventually spoke up.

"Care to explain how this happened?"

"How _what_ happened?" Deucalion asked frustrated, because he really didn't understand.

"You and her. I picked up on her scent on you from inside the house. If she had said _'back off, bitch'_ to my face, it couldn't have been clearer."

"Ah... that..."

He smiled a little. So apparently he wasn't the only one who had left his mark. "Yes we've been... rather intimate lately."

"Is this wise? She may have chosen you as Superior, but she's still a McCall. Donovan will come back with a vengeance if he learns you made his granddaughter your mate."

"Well, since he thinks I belong to the family anyways, I don't see why there should be a problem."

"Alright... if you say so. But I am guessing it will be an awkward dinner. I don't think my father will like the thought..."

Richard Hale really didn't like the thought.

The dinner was, indeed, awkward. Around a large dinner table, the family and their guests had gathered. No one spoke while knives and forks scratched on plates, aside from 'pass me the sauce, please' or 'does anyone want wine?' no one really wanted to talk about the elephant in the room. Until Richard finally addressed Lyka.

"So, Lyka, fully initiated _nagual_. How does it feel?"

"Um... I don't feel different, I think," Lyka admitted nervously. She was not entirely sure where the King was going with the question and had the strange feeling that he was trying to trip her up on something. She was sitting between Waldorf to her left and Laura on her right and could feel the other girl shift uncomfortably in her chair. Deucalion was sitting opposite her, between Hector and Peter, who was watching her very attentively.

"Well, most _nagual_ think becoming like them is the highest calling for a wolf. I just wanted to see if there really was something to it or if they were just perpetually arrogant."

"Perpetually arrogant, Sir," Lyka confirmed.

"Hm. So I thought. You're better off with us then?"

More uncomfortable shifting.

"So is no one going to talk about the elephant in the room? Does it have to be me again?" Peter Hale suddenly asked. Everyone at the table avoided his gaze until he dramatically rolled his eyes. "Seriously, people, so they mated, what is the big deal? It's a free country."

"I commend your practicality, Peter," Deucalion commented.

"That's not what this is about. She's a McCall," Richard Hale declared, visibly angry.

"I am. So? I chose _your_ alliance over them. Doesn't that mean anything?"

"I don't know you, Lyka. All I know is that you chose to turn on your own family. How do I know you won't turn on _my_ family as well?" Richard Hale asked grimly. Lyka gasped at a loss of words. Deucalion put down his knife and fork calmly.

"That's quite enough. I won't let her be insulted like this."

He wiped his mouth and rose from the table, took his can and walked around the entire table to stop by her side, offer his hand. To say she wasn't relieved would be a lie. She quickly took his hand and got up from the table as well. "We have clearly overstayed our welcome."

"Deucalion, don't be silly," Richard began. But Deucalion interrupted.

"Silly? Lyka went through the initiation because you would not agree to the peace negotiations unless I presented you with a _nagual_. She turned on her family because I made her do it. She did this for the alliance and now she is put in question because of it? No, Richard, I am not behaving silly. _You_ _insulted_ my _mate_."

The tension was unbearable. Two Alpha's like them, in one room, with different views, it was bound to end badly. But Deucalion would not get tempted to start a fight. He headed for the door, actually leading Lyka more than she him this time. As they reached the door, Waldorf and Marco jumped up from the table to follow. And Lyka held his arm tight. _His mate_. It was the first time he had actually said it. She had sort of suspected it but had not really dared to ask, because she didn't want to ruin what they had (whatever that was). The confirmation, to hear him say it out loud, was a great relief.

The Hale's stayed behind and Talia turned towards her father.

"Was that really necessary? You had to get all territorial?" she asked him upset.

"She's a liability. Not because she's a _nagual_, but because she's _his_ weakness. He doesn't think straight when it comes to her, that makes them dangerous. He needs to be put back in his place."

"His place? And what's his place, hm?"

"You know he needs to be reminded that he answers to _me_. Not _her_."

Talia slowly shook her head.

"You feel threatened by them? Deucalion is loyal to you. You are like a father to him. He'd never go against you. But if you keep pushing him away, if you keep trying to meddle in his life, in decisions that are none of your business – like, for instance, who he mates – he _will_ turn on you. And when that happens, you have no one else to blame but yourself."

Again, awkward silence. Derek and Laura were nervously rearranging the vegetables on their plates. They heard the car drive off the property.

* * *

The car ride into town was just as silent. Marco and Waldorf didn't speak about what had just happened at the Hale house, Lyka and Deucalion sat quietly in the back. Only when they arrived at the Motel did Marco turn around.

"But the plan is still on, right? Even after this little fallout?"

"The plan is still on," Deucalion confirmed. "We'll talk to the Matriarch tomorrow, we can sort out Richard's support after that. But tonight we rest. We deserve it, it was a long journey."

"Hell, I am going out!" Waldorf declared. Soon after dropping off his things in his room, he left, leaving Marco alone with the TV. Lyka and Deucalion where in a different room, where Deucalion sat down on the bed exhausted. Lyka sat behind him, took off his jacket and began massaging his tense shoulders and neck.

"So... I am your mate?"

He turned his head a little towards her.

"Of course you are."

She smiled and kissed his shoulder. A moment later he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into a kiss. She smiled against his lips and pulled him further onto the bed. So if she was officially his mate, she wanted to at least do that title justice. Physically.

* * *

**Author's note:**

OMG I am suck at waiting for stuff! Knowing the episode is floating around out there and people have seen it. But I gotta stay strong!

Next chapter is one I am looking forwards to a lot. We're finally meeting with the Matriarch! Yes! Excited! I hope you lovely people liked this chapter, I enjoyed writing especially Deucalion's nightmare a lot. And Puppy!Cora!

Leave reviews or messages or both, I love reading them!

Cheers!


	16. Argent

_**Argent**_

They picked up the Emissary at the local High School. She was an unusual woman. She _looked_ blatantly ordinary at first sight, slender, with long, very straight dark hair, cat-like eyes, dark skin. She was beautiful and seemed somehow... timeless. Like she could have just as well been born four centuries ago. But definitely not like Lyka had imagined a Druid. Somehow she had imagined someone like the old Mexican woman she had seen with the _nagual_ – covered in charms and amulets, wearing strange robes and muttering spells. This woman could just as easily be... a guidance councillor or something like that. She got in the car with them and greeted them all.

"Good to see you all well. Waldorf, it's been a long time. Marco," then she turned towards Lyka and smiled. "And you must be Lyka. I've heard a lot about you. I think when all this is over, you and I should have a good, long talk."

"We should?" Lyka asked irritated.

"Well, you are a _nagual_... and I take it by your reaction no one has explained to you why _nagual_ are different from _loup garous_."

"There's more? Why is there always more...?"

"Yes, there's more. But there's no rush, we can talk when this meeting is over," Marin Morrell replied with a smile. Then she looked past Lyka towards Deucalion. "I hope you know how much we're risking, going to her personally."

"I know."

Marin nodded. She had expected no other reply. There were many things Lyka wanted to ask her, but it would have to wait. Because they were driving again, were on their way out of the neat little town. They followed a road along the coast for about two hours, beautiful, picturesque, wild nature, undisturbed. Until it came in sight. A bungalow, by the rough beach, all white between the trees. Surrounded by a high security fence with only one gate which was guarded with cameras. They drove up, there was no movement for a while until finally, Deucalion left the car himself. Lyka wanted to hold him back but couldn't, so instead she left the car with him.

"We're here to speak with the Matriarch," he declared calmly. Silence followed. Then a speaker grew louder with cracking sounds.

"I will not let four wolves into my home. One can come," a woman said, sounded almost offended. _What did they take her for? A fool?_

"Just me then!" Deucalion called. Lyka grabbed his arm alarmed.

"Are you mad?!" she hissed.

"It's going to be alright. She's not going to hurt me," he insisted with a smile.

"I don't care. I'm coming with you," she protested, then turned towards the camera. "I am coming with him. I am his eyes, _I'll go with him_," she insisted.

There was a pause. A long pause. She saw Waldorf nervously shifting in his seat.

"I don't like this Boss. Not one bit," the wolf declared. And then, out of nowhere, the gates swung open.

"The two of you may enter. The rest park outside the compound and wait."

Deucalion nodded towards Marco. The young Beta growled something to himself that sounded suspiciously like _'we're all going to die'_ before he started the engine and drove off to park the car. Deucalion took Lyka's arm and they entered the compound.

The path up to the bungalow was rather long. They could see the beach down below, some bushes, trees, heard the distant bark of a dog – by the sound of it on a chain and Lyka guessed it was a Rottweiler. No. Two. There was a second bark. But the closer the wolves came, the more intimidated the dogs seemed to get.

She could practically feel Deucalion's entire attitude shift. He was nervous, almost insecure, she had never seen him like that. He held on to her arm, clutching it really, and she was almost certain she felt him... shake a little. She gently put her hand on his.

"You're nervous," she noted. And remembered that it had not been all that long ago since he had made the same remark about her. How much had changed since then.

"Obviously. I haven't spoken to her in... nearly 27 years..."

She smiled and quoted him.

"You have nothing to worry about. I am confident you will do exceptionally well,"

He raised one brow, realising what she did, but before he could reply she had quickly gotten to the tips of her toes and planted a soft, little kiss on his cheek. "There, a kiss to boost your confidence."

He couldn't help but laugh, and nod. Grateful to have her here with him. They reached the porch, the door was open just a crack and Lyka pushed in. It led straight to the living room and a marvellous view of a terrace and garden. Everything was neat and clean, old furniture painted white, chimes in the windows, silver decorations. The sound of these chimes and the smell of the furniture, even what he guessed was an old rug on the living room floor. Everything here reminded him of... home.

"Is this were you grew up?" Lyka asked in a low whisper. He shook his head.

"No. But a lot of the things are from my childhood home," he admitted.

"Well... You have to hand it to her, your mom has style."

"Start a visit with a compliment. Your assistant has manners, I see."

They both simultaneously flew around. Lyka gasped surprised. She had not even heard the woman enter the room! She could distinguish no scent, nothing gave her away. It was like she wasn't... really there. Only now did she even notice the additional heartbeat, so calm that it was almost not audible. There was no question to who this woman was. Who else could be able to sneak up on two wolves like this but a professional hunter? The Matriarch.

She was not what Lyka had expected.

Allison Argent was an elderly woman, small, seemingly fragile, though she assumed that was intentional. Her hair was perfectly white with elegantly falling bangs and tied to a loose knot in the back. She was wearing white, almost blending in with the interior of her house. But in one hand she held a crossbow with a bolt in it, aiming at them. Really only to show that if she had _wanted_ to harm them, one of them if not both would have bolts sticking out their backs right now.

Lyka also noticed her necklace very specifically. A simple silver chain with what seemed to be a coin pendant dangling over her chest. She could see the image of a wolf pressed on it. Then she looked up at the woman's face. There was no question to the family resemblance. The same brows, same eye colour, even the dimples. Definitely his mother.

She still had the crossbow pointed at them but slowly lowered it. She spoke with a British accent, so he obviously had picked it up from her. "So the wayward son returns."

"Wayward son? Don't you mean _exiled_ son?"

She didn't respond to it, but placed the crossbow on a dresser.

"Will this take long? Should I put the kettle on?" she asked. Lyka was surprised by how willing she seemed to be to listen to them, to let them speak. After all the things she had heard about the Argent's she had pictured them for people who would shoot first and ask the questions later. Apparently Deucalion really did know his mother better than that.

"You don't even want to know why I came?"

"I am guessing it has something to do with that treaty of yours? You are getting quite famous out there, Noah. Or should I call you _Deucalion_ now?" she asked while she did indeed go into the small kitchen nearby and put on a kettle to boil water. She took out three cups and a tin box with teabags.

"We won't be taking your wolfsbane spiked tea, thank you," Deucalion said, pulling up an eyebrow. They had both smelled it. The Matriarch froze in her motion, then smiled.

"Force of habit," she admitted and returned to the living room. "Who's the girl? She was all too eager to come here with you."

Deucalion intuitively pulled Lyka closer, intertwining his fingers with hers.

"She's my mate."

"Your _mate_? You're meaning to tell me you brought your _girlfriend_ to meet mummy? Does she have a name, then?"

"Lyka," Lyka snarled back at the obvious amusement in the other woman's voice. The Matriarch raised her brows amused.

"Ah, the she-wolf. How well-chosen a name. So, sit, let's talk about this truce of yours."

The Matriarch offered them to sit down on the couch and they did. She took to an armchair nearby, sat down herself, crossed her legs and waited for them to do the talking. Lyka wondered if she would even mention what her brother-in-law had done to Deucalion. If she'd even talk about his eyesight. But she didn't. Instead, Deucalion spoke up.

"I know you don't want to believe in my truce. You don't want to believe peace is possible. But-"

"Do you remember our family's Code?" the Matriarch interrupted. Deucalion fell silent. "You were just a child. Yet I dare believe I taught you well enough."

"_Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent_," Deucalion replied. The Matriarch nodded.

"It means-"

"We hunt those who hunt us," Lyka interrupted her. When the older woman looked surprised, she shrugged. "No, I'm not just pretty. Shocking, isn't it?"

"Oh, snarky. I might actually get to like that one. Now. You know what this Code means. One of your wolves kills one of our hunters, we go after them. That's how it has always been. And what happened at the distillery... has rendered any truce between you and us virtually impossible."

"Why? Because we _supposedly_ killed your men? Is that what Gerard told you?" Deucalion asked. Lyka saw the older woman pull her brows together.

"Yes, that _is_ what Gerard told me. Why? Is that _not_ what happened?"

"Will you even listen? Or have you made up your mind already?"

"I _have_ made up my mind. But I would like to hear your version anyways. I must admit, what Gerard told me did sound a little... odd. When I heard you wanted to negotiate a truce I was sure it would work out, I believed you would bring peace. I sent two of our most diplomatic hunters with him, two men who I believed would be capable of keeping the negotiation civilised. When he said you ambushed him and his men... I must admit I was disappointed."

"I didn't ambush Gerard and his men. He killed two of my Beta's and your two hunters. He said they believed in peace and they had to be eradicated, because they would weaken the family. He killed them all. And he would have killed me, too. _This_ was his doing."

Deucalion took off his glasses, his blind gaze fixed on the general direction he assumed the Matriarch to sit. Lyka watched her carefully. The woman's face was impossible to read but she was very quiet now. Very still, attentively watching the blind man in front of her, the frown on her face still deep.

"You expect me to take your word over his?"

"My pack thinks you won't. I told them you would know better. You always knew when I was lying."

She suddenly laughed.

"I remember that time I heard something break in the kitchen and when I got there, you were sitting on the floor next to a stool surrounded by glass and cookies and you _still_ fiercely denied that you had tried to get them out of the cupboard."

Lyka saw Deucalion's mouth twitch to a smile and saw a certain melancholy in the Matriarch's eyes. "You always were a terrible liar... Gerard on the other hand has always been a psychopath. You're saying... he went against the code? Killed messengers of peace? And our own men?"

"He did."

"And he did this to you? Why?"

"I think he thought I would die. Unfortunately for him, I didn't."

"He probably tried to right a wrong of our past."

Lyka felt Deucalion tense next to her and she intuitively took his hand, squeezed it, assured him of her presence.

"So you wish you'd done it back then? Killed me like they asked of you?" he eventually asked.

"You're my son, Noah. I do not wish harm onto you. The rest of the family is a different story though. You will not believe the accusations I had to overcome after letting you escape. Why come to me now? What makes you think I can convince the hunters to accept this truce you're offering?"

"I am not offering anything. The wolves are. I am here on their behalf. Two of the most influential, most powerful Alpha's have agreed to pick up negotiations if you will. We're not going through a middle man again. Not after this disaster. It's you or no one."

The Matriarch sat silently for a long, long time. Her gaze fixed on the man before her. She suddenly smiled and turned towards Lyka, making her sit up straight. There was something extremely authoritarian about this woman.

"You know, Lyka, I may not have been able to be a mother to him, but I watched him. Year after year, watched him grow up with them, another family that was better for him than mine ever could be because of what he was. I watched him and I knew he was special. It made me think that maybe what happened that night… happened for a reason. That maybe he was never meant to be an Argent but that he was meant to be… one of them. And that it was in his nature to bring together two worlds that were thought to be impossible to unite. Maybe, just maybe, he would be able to bring us all to the same page. I watched him learn from them and I learned with him, from afar, that those we thought beasts… might not be all animal, that there was more human in them than we thought. I was willing to believe that. Not an easy thing to hold on to but he has never given me reason to doubt him. Three months ago, my brother-in-law came to me, bloodied and beaten after I had allowed him to respond to a peace-offering. He said he'd been ambushed, our men were dead but he had managed to kill two of the traitors as well. He said the wolves once again showed that it is in their nature to kill, that they could not be trusted, that nature doesn't change. I didn't want to believe him. But what was I supposed to believe instead? So I waited. For what? For this. For him to step forward with his side of the story. I knew he would come. Because, lost or not, he is my son and I know him. And because I know him, and I know Gerard… it's _your_ version of the story I am inclined to believe."

Lyka let go of the breath she had been intuitively holding and leaned back with a soft sigh of relief. Deucalion looked surprised. When he was truly honest, he had hoped but not really believed that she would listen to him. He nodded slowly.

"Thank you."

She nodded back and rose to her feet.

"Tell your fellow Alpha's that I will step into negotiations with them. On neutral ground. Let me know when and where and I will be there. I _will_ bring hunters and there is nothing you can say to convince me otherwise. I trust _you_ well enough; it's _them_ I have a problem with. If you can agree to these terms, I'd be happy to see this truce happen. We've been pointlessly fighting for too long."

"I agree," Deucalion confirmed and rose as well. And the Matriarch cast them the most unusual smile. She walked closer slowly, careful almost, as if not to startle them. And when she reached to touch his face, Lyka felt Deucalion flinch a little.

"For what it is worth after all this time and all the mistakes that were made, I am proud of the man you have become," the Matriarch admitted.

"I…" he began, at a loss of words, before he nodded. "Thank you."

She laughed.

"And I like your girlfriend."

Lyka smiled.

"You're not so bad yourself."

The Matriarch laughed with her but then a hint of nostalgia began to spark in her eyes, a certain sadness that made Lyka happy Deucalion couldn't see them. But he could hear it in the Matriarchs voice when the words left her lips.

"Ah, Alexander would've liked her too, he would be happy for you."

"I'd hope so."

"Tell me, don't you wolves have healing abilities? Shouldn't you be able to heal your eyes?"

"Wolfsbane," Deucalion said with a shrug. The Matriarch nodded, then placed a hand on his arm.

"I am truly sorry it had to come to this. Gerard will be put to justice for his violation of the Code. I've been hoping he'd overstep for a while now, I am just... sorry it had to be like this. Now, I don't mean to be rude but I am sure you have things to do, meetings to prepare. Let me know when it is time, I will be ready."

Deucalion almost saluted when she officially released them from her presence and it made Lyka realise that he would be a hunter now had he not been bitten. He'd be a soldier, a warrior for this family, taking orders from his mother. His upbringing had surely been that of a little soldier. How different things would be today if he had not received the bite. Would they have even... met?

She took his arm when he turned, now it was her turn to hold on to him, to make sure he wouldn't slip away. She led him towards the door when the Matriarch called out to them once more. To her, more specifically.

"Lyka."

She turned around to look at the white-haired woman standing alone in her living room. "Watch out for him?"

"Always," Lyka confirmed with a smile. The Matriarch smiled back and sat down as they left. Sat in silence, alone, in this empty house, the ghost of a life she would have liked to have...

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_AASHGJASJLASDJLFHAJHFHKFGXD! That episode OMG so many feelings! I will _most definitely_ write an_ 'Unblinding'_ One-Shot when I am ever done with this fic about the what-if-scenario __that Deucalion goes to find Lyka _

_*spoilers*_

_after he has his eyesight back because I just have a lot of emotions about this okay?! _

_*end spoilers* _

_No seriously, the episode was great. For Deucalion fans, that is. Yeah it had its weaknesses but really, I have been mostly watching this season for him because I couldn't focus on anything else anyways, so i didn't really care. Can't wait for the winter half of the season! _

_As for this chapter: I am pleased with how it turned out, have been dying to introduce Matriarch Allison Argent for a while now and am happy with how their meeting went down. _

_I luv you all for the comments, and I am hoping I can keep the chapters coming. I am moving soon and starting a new jo,b so I don't know how busy I will be but I WILL NOT abandon this fic, I promise! I love this too much ^^ _

_Keep reviewing and leave me messages! _

_Cheers_


	17. Beacon

**Warning: smut ahead. Have fun.**

* * *

**Beacon**

They were wandering through the woods almost all day. Lyka, Waldorf, Marco, Talia and Laura. Talia had picked the spot where they should meet with the Argents, had invited them to show it to them. She had called them together early in the morning. Deucalion had still been asleep. He had been tossing and turning all night, so Lyka didn't want to deprive him of the rest he needed, she had actually snuck out on him and felt bad all the way out here. But Talia had sounded so urgent, she sort of just… went with it.

She walked next to Laura and while most of their hike was very silent, they shared one or the other laugh. Laura was nice company, kind of like her mother. She was overly interested in what it was like to be with someone like Deucalion and giggling with her was a lot like it would be talking to Liv right about now. Lyka missed Liv. Terribly so. She had called her best friend a few days ago, telling her about the meeting with the Matriarch, that it had gone much smoother than they had feared. Also, she did have a long talk with Marin Morrell, who had explained her things about werewolves other werewolves probably didn't even know.

Every continent had their own mythology about their kind and the reason for that was that there were different cultural circles of wolves. The _loup garous_ were the most common in the States but originally, they had come from France and had been the common culture of wolves in Europe. It was _loup garous_ tradition to have Emissary's – dating back to ancient Greece and the time when druids had been at the height of their power, it had become common practice to have packs led by an Alpha as physical leader and an Emissary as spiritual leader. When the first explorers came across the sea to 'discover' the America's they of course brought wolves with them, and wolves brought Emissaries with them. But the native wolves, the _nagual_, had their own culture. The original _nagual_, Morrell had explained, had no such thing as Emissaries or druids, because they were, by nature, warlocks. Which was why most _nagual_ had a certain gift – precognition, communication with the spiritual world, more advanced control of their wolf shifting. That was what Morrell wanted to teach her, some tricks normally only druids would master. She also explained that over time, the _nagual_ packs had largely adapted to the invading _loup garous_ culture, so Emissaries had become common for them as well.

That had basically been her program for the past days after the meeting with Allison Argent. Laughing with Laura, learning with Marin. And now all day marching through the woods.

"Seriously, had I known we'd be here all day, I would have told Deucalion where I was going!" she complained.

"We're almost there," Talia insisted and ushered them on.

And eventually, they reached their destination. They could all sense it. A change in the air. Like they walked over an invisible line that just cut off any sound from the outside world. They had reached a clearing above which trees leaned towards a centre like a dome, the sunlight falling into it like the dusty rays of light through church windows. Everything here was like a temple. And in the heart of that temple was… a tree. Or had once been a tree, it had been cut and only the stump was left. Gigantic, monstrous really, Lyka could hardly imagine the size of that tree when it had still been alive. But was it really dead? She was quite sure she heard it breath, felt it in the air, like a presence.

"What is this place…?" she asked.

"The druids call it a Nemeton. It is a sacred place of worship. Ancient, but never forgotten. There used to be a tree, a long, long time ago, it was like a Beacon to the supernatural, it was what made Beacon Hills what it is today. It was worshiped by the first druids that came here with the first Hale's and it was cut when we slowly but surely had to go into hiding. I think it's an appropriate place to make history," Talia explained as they walked closer to the stump. It still reached so far out of the ground that it almost reached to Lyka's shoulders. When she saw the girl reach out a hand to touch the ancient tree, Talia added "Some say touching the heart of a Nemeton can give you visions."

Lyka hesitated, but then she did brush her fingertips over the old, damp wood. It felt strange. Definitely alive, there was… something in this tree, a power, old and strange and frightening and-

She was not even sure how long she had just silently stood there, her fingertips resting on the tree, listening to it breathing, breathing with it. But when she snapped back to reality it was because they were arguing around her. Yelling really, Marco at Talia and Waldorf, Laura standing between them, trying to calm them down without much success. Lyka gasped. She wasn't even sure what was going on but she could sense that with the way things were right now, they wouldn't even need hunters to kill them. They would just kill each other, problem solved.

"Last time he tried to negotiate his precious truce, we were almost killed, he came out blind and we have an entire army of Hunters at our throats for something we didn't do!" Marco declared.

"I won't abandon him in this! I _believe_ in his cause!" Talia protested.

"This time will be different," Waldorf insisted to support her protest.

"How? Because he's gone to the Matriarch? You know what they say about her. Shoot first, ask questions later. Who's to tell us she won't show up here with a cavalry of hunters, and blow us all into the next world?"

"She won't do that. She was sincere when she agreed to negotiate with us," Lyka interrupted, speaking up for the first time. It caused the group to turn towards her.

"Oh? And you're so sure of this because you know her so damn well?"

"No, but he does," Lyka corrected.

"How so? How does he know the Matriarch exactly? Because I am sick and tired of his avoiding bullshit," Marco snapped.

"She's his mother."

They abruptly fell silent the instant the words had left her lips. Talia gasped in disbelief and it was the first time she had seen Waldorf truly surprised. "Allison Argent is Deucalion's mother. He's an Argent."

"We're supposed to take _your_ word for that?" Marco asked aggressively. Waldorf rolled his eyes but before he could scold him, Lyka spoke up again.

"He told me. He trusted me with this. But if it means I can stop this nonsense you're spawning, I'll have to share it. Deucalion was born an Argent, but he was bitten and turned by my grandfather. His family wanted him killed, Allison Argent saved his life by sending him away. Richard Hale found him and took him in, raised him to be who he is now. We should consider ourselves lucky that he chose us as his pack, that he wanted _us_ to be his family, after his own family abandoned him. _You_ should be ashamed to doubt him," she lectured, her voice growing stronger with every word. It was like this place magnified everything, every emotion they felt. Marco's aggression, but also Lyka's loyalty. It was the tree, she was sure of it. It was like this old place was channelling the energies it was surrounded with, in this case their emotions. Like branches reaching through them. Marco growled.

"Oh come on now everyone knows you're just this loyal to him because you two are fucking."

The words had hardly left Marco's lips before Lyka had crossed the distance between them and slapped him so suddenly that he flew around. There was blood. She hadn't even noticed that she had drawn her claws, that she had left marks on his face, that her eyes were burning golden.

"Watch what you're saying," she warned. Marco wiped the blood from his cheek, his eyes too burning up when he growled at her.

"Why? _You_'re not my Alpha. You think just because you suck his cock now you have any more to say in this pack than any other Beta? Well wake up, sunshine, you're no better than us."

She had grabbed him by the throat and before he knew it, he was on the floor, staring at her surprised, gasping for breath. The clearing was sizzling with electricity, the leafs whispering above them when she spoke, her voice more powerful than she had thought possible.

"I am Lyka McCall, I am a _nagual_ initiated in blood, a child of the moon, and the mate to Deucalion. _I. Am. Your. Queen_. So if you don't want me to rip your throat out right now, I suggest you tread very careful around me!"

No one moved. The others were staring at the two of them until finally, Marco raised his hands in defeat. Lyka remained in charge for a moment longer, just to remind him, before she let go of his throat and stepped away from him. Her shoulders were squared, her chin up and in that moment, there was something regal about her, no question to it. "Anyone else wishes to question Deucalion in my presence, I suggest you do it now."

No one responded. She nodded. "Good. Then this is where the meeting will take place, just as we planned it, and we will support Deucalion, like a good pack is supposed to. Understood?" she asked, directly at Marco and Waldorf. Both nodded, Marco evaded her gaze but he looked bristling with anger.

"Yes Ma'am," Waldorf replied with a stern nod. She drew her claws in again and the golden glow of her eyes faded. She nodded and then left. The others remained, startled, silent. Marco rubbed the wounds on his throat.

"Bitch," he growled. Before he knew it, Waldorf had kicked his side.

"Shut up, Marco."

* * *

By the time she was back at the hotel, it was beginning to get dark. The ride in the elevator was long and silent and when she reached the room, it was silent as well. Deucalion stood by the open window listening to the sounds of Beacon Hills. Her scent hit him, mixed with the smell of earth and forest.

"Where were you?" he inquired grimly. She looked up from taking of her jacket and shoes.

"Look who's all controlling."

"You were gone when I woke up and I haven't heard from you all day, I think that qualifies to make me rightfully worry."

She smiled and he heard her steps come closer, her feet light on the wooden floor. Then he felt her hand caress his cheek and he leaned towards it intuitively.

"Talia took us to a place she thought to be a good, neutral ground for the meeting, an old druid temple in the woods. You were asleep, I didn't want to wake you – you were tossing and turning all night."

She kissed the corner of his mouth, then turned to leave. But he caught her wrist, his fingers closing around it like pliers. She gasped a little. His nostrils trembled when he inhaled. There was another scent to her, other than the forest.

"Blood. Whose blood is this?"

Her gaze shot to her hand and she realized she had blood under her nails from where she had attacked Marco. Not much, but definitely enough for him to pick up on it. Slowly she shook her head.

"Don't worry, it's not mine, it's nothing."

"What happened, Lyka?" he asked, more insistent, his hand gripping firmer, she almost felt it bruise.

"Deucalion, you're hurting me."

He instantly let go of her wrist and suddenly looked like a kicked puppy, seemed to collapse in himself.

"I… I am sorry, I didn't mean to. I… there's just so much anger in me… I can't…"

He ran his hands over his face, through his hair, struggling. She knew he was suffering. She had noticed it tonight. He had not gone crazy like the other day in the motel, but he had not slept well. Mumbling in his sleep. She had held him close, caressed him, whispered to him so he would know she was there and it had been almost five in the morning until he finally found rest, his breath and heart steadied, he relaxed in her embrace. That was why she had let him sleep in the first place, because she was convinced he needed it. In retrospect she realised it had been stupid to leave without telling him but she couldn't change that, it had seemed right at the time. Now she pulled him closer, placing his head on her shoulder gently. Her hand was caressing his forehead, his temple, and he could hear the blood rush under her skin, could hear her heartbeat. He sighed because it felt so much better to have her near.

"Please, trust me when I say it was nothing. You have enough on your plate, this is something you don't have to concern yourself with. We found a good place for the meeting, everything is taken care of," she whispered gently. Because she be damned if she let him worry about the loyalty of his pack as well, with all the things happening, all the things he was worrying about right now. She would make sure he didn't hear about Marco's little outburst back there, would make sure the pack stood behind him at all times. She would be the mate he needed.

Her words were soothing. This headache had been plaguing him all day and this anger he felt, boiling inside him, only ever gave way when she was around. She calmed him, grounded him. She was all he needed but the more he thought about it, the more he thought she was a drug. And he was addicted. Not having her around, that anger, that rage, it felt like... withdrawal symptoms. He leaned his head a little to kiss the soft skin on the nape of her neck. Her eyes fluttered close and she caressed his hair, brushing her fingers through it softly. She could feel how tense he was, how alert, like something worried him constantly, his frame hard and tight, like the string of a bow about to release an arrow, and it made her sad that there was nothing she could do to make him feel better. Or well, she could do _something_. She brushed his hair back and kissed his forehead. "I am tired."

And with these words, she stepped away, took his hand and led him with her into the bedroom. There, she made him sit down and stood between his legs.

"Lyka…" he whispered, the sound of her name almost like a careful, hesitant prayer, like he thought he didn't deserve her attention. She hushed him with a finger on his lips.

"Watch me take my clothes off…" she whispered, her lips brushing his ear and the smoking tone of her voice made his mouth go dry. Still, he raised a brow.

"Not funny."

She chuckled, oh how he loved that sound, then took both his hands. She guided them over her body, over the fabric of her blouse, from her shoulders over her breasts – he could feel the lace of her bra through the blouse – and the touch made her sigh a little, a small smile on her lips, but she guided his hands further, past her navel, over her hips where he felt the tight jeans she was wearing, hugging her curves teasingly. Once his hands reached her knees, he pulled her closer while he rose a little, just enough to almost meet her face, almost making her stumble and she chuckled when his face was again buried in her hair, inhaling her scent deeply. But she had plans. She pushed him back onto the bed and caught his hands again. With his fingers under hers, she opened button after button of her blouse and he could feel the glimpses of her skin being revealed. Then he realised. He _was_ watching her take her clothes off. With his hands.

"Oh you wonderful, wonderful woman..." he whispered, unable to hold it back.

The last button was undone and she pulled his hands up with hers, back to her shoulders where they travelled under the blouse and slid the fabric off her. He traced his fingertips down her arms, sliding the sleeves off her, he brushed her wrists gently, her fingers, then the blouse fell to the floor with a soft rustling sound. His hands wandered up but before he could reach her jeans, she caught them again.

"A-ah, not quite yet," she warned and he heard the smirk in her voice.

"Tease."

"You should know that by now," she commented with a chuckle and led his hands around her. He caressed her spine, making her arch her back towards him, her breasts brushing against his face and he gladly pressed his lips on the lace hem, teasing her skin with just as much wicked pleasure as this seemed to cause her. Still, she managed to undo the hooks of her bra.

She led his hands off her back to reach the straps of her bra as she slid them off her shoulders too, achingly slow. This time his hands didn't follow hers, but followed the lace hem of the garment along the curve of her breasts. His fingertips brushed her nipples and she couldn't suppress the moan, no matter how hard she tried to. He growled, the animal somewhere within his chest awakened and hungry for her, he brushed his lips over one nipple. She pushed him away.

"Not yet. _Looking_. No touching."

"I see with my lips," he protested, drew closer again and sucked one of her nipples gently between his teeth.

"You see- _ohh God…_ - you see with your _hands_," she insisted and decidedly pushed him away.

He growled a little frustrated, but he would play along. Because he enjoyed this – enjoyed her – too much to bother protesting now. The bra dropped, joining the blouse on the floor. She allowed his hands to appreciate her breasts for just a moment before she guided them away again. Over the soft skin of her stomach, past her navel, to the button and zipper of her jeans. She opened them while his hands caressed her hips, then helped her pull down the trousers that hugged her so perfectly. Down on the outside of her thighs, past the hollow of her knees where he knew she was sensitive and he teased with his fingertips, making her chuckle and he heard that she was biting her lip. When the trousers were off, his hands wandered up between her thighs. A gasp escaped her. He could feel how wet she was with anticipation, just as aroused as he was. He wasn't the only one teased beyond measure, she was just exceptionally good at hiding it.

Before she could protest this time, he had lift her off her feet and turned so she was below him on the bed. She gasped surprised, finding herself under him, his lips on her skin as he slowly pulled her panties off her. For a moment, just a moment, she gave in, closed her eyes and moaned as his lips were between her legs, gentle but skilled, sending shivers of pleasure through her, making her scream out.

But no! _No!_ She wanted to help take _his_ mind off things, not the other way around – and damn was she distracted right now! It took a painful effort to push him off her when really she could have enjoyed this all day. She sat up, pushed him to his back and straddled him, before he could protest. She slid her hands under his shirt, pulled it off him and then kissed his skin, her lips almost burning as they touched him, making him moan at the sensation. She undid his belt, opened his trousers and reached into the band of his boxer briefs, pulled both off him. His erection sprang free, already hard and throbbing that it was a miracle he wasn't actually in pain.

He could not see the mischievous smirk on her lips when they wandered down his muscular stomache, but he felt it on his skin. And her lips reached his cock. He growled like a beast under her when her lips wandered up his length, base to tip, a touch that was more than a tease. It was actually almost painful. She let the tip of her tongue caress the tip of him lightly before she took him in her mouth. The sensation was indescribably. A roar escaped him, his body stiffened and he grabbed her hair, undecided whether he wanted her to stop so he could pull her up and thrust into that wetness of hers, or if he rather wanted her to continue because it felt so damn good. Her name was on his lips, gasping moans. Her name only. She was not immune to doubts, when she thought of the fact that he had – most definitely so – been with Talia, when she thought that she could never compare to the Queen of wolves. But those doubts vanished when they were together. When her name was all that was on his lips, when he came so completely undone before her, the oh so dominant, fierce Alpha completely at her mercy, when she had such power over him. She was not Talia, but she didn't need to be. She was exactly who he wanted, who he needed and no one could ever take that from her.

But as much as he enjoyed what she did, he wanted her to be there with him, properly, wanted to fill her up, make her his. He knew if he didn't get there he'd lose control too soon and he wouldn't let that happen. She felt him shudder and then he pulled her away. He pulled her up by her shoulders, heard her surprised gasp when he sat up and pulled her legs around him, his erection between them, finding her, and his lips on her neck. He thrust deep into her, making her whimper, she arched her back towards him, pressed her body against his when he started moving his hips to pull out and thrust into her again and again. He supported himself with one arm on the bed, the other one wrapped around her waist, their lips close to each other so he not only heard her moans, but felt the warmth of her breath and could distinguish between simple moans, gasps and soft screams and the times she was breathing his name. He remembered the first time she had said his name with such promises, back at the warehouse and here they were, inseparably connected, both at each other's mercy and simply the way she moaned his name could make him forget everything that wasn't her. Her hips met his in their movement and she held on to his frame, leaned to catch his lips in a breathless kiss when they both found release. His roar met her gasp and whimper in the breath exchanged between their lips, before they collapsed onto the bed.

He held her in his arms, kissed her hair.

"Just promise me you won't just disappear again?" he asked.

"I won't," she promised and rested her head on his broad chest. She had not lied when she had said she was tired, now she was pleasantly exhausted and really all she wanted was to sleep. With his arms around her, his thumb drawing circles on her shoulders, she drifted off to sleep. But something was lurking in the back of her mind and as she fell asleep, it crawled into her dreams.

The tree. In the Temple it stood – not the dead stump, but the most magnificent tree she had ever seen. In the dead of night, the horizon burning, thunder rolling into a flaming storm above her. And there was a beast, a gigantic, red-eyed beast. At first she had thought it was Deucalion but when she got closer and it grew more monstrous, she felt fear well up in her, because that wasn't her mate, not the wolf she loved. This was something else, something terrible, it made her want to run the other way. And when she turned around she saw a field of dead bodies before her, in what she had thought to be the shadow of the tree, forming branches, blood turning the forest ground to mud. Faces she knew. Their pack, their friends, family. She flew around to the tree again and there, between two high roots leaning against the stump, she saw herself. The creature cowering over her and when it retreated, she saw her throat ripped open, life seeping from her. She was dying.

She shot out of her sleep, gasping for breath, her hands clutched her unharmed throat. Her gasps turned to sobs and he shot up next to her, his hands on her shoulders.

"Lyka, my love?" he whispered, so much honest worry in her voice.

"A nightmare... just... a nightmare..." she whispered. But he could tell how shaken she was. How disturbed, how troubled. He wrapped his arms around her, held her close, kissed her shoulders.

"It's alright, let me be here for you," he whispered. She leaned into him as they lay down and he kept kissing her hair. She wanted to sleep. She really did. But it sat heavy in her, the memory of this nightmare, it would haunt her, she knew that. And as much as she tried to tell herself that the creature she had seen was not the same man in whose arms she was lying now... there was a part of her that knew.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_Squeeeeee! 50 reviews! I can't even tell you how happy I am about this! Never stop reviewing you guys! Keep them coming!_

_Had a real rush of inspiration today - probably because of all the positive feedback - so a new chapter right away, wow! And one I really, really like. Some interesting stuff happening and the big negotiation is drawing nearer. Exciting! Also, some more smut ^^ I just have so much fun with these two._


	18. King

**Warning: Drama ahead.**

* * *

**King**

_He remembered the car ride. The smell of car fresheners, the old songs playing from the radio that had seen better days. His father was driving, his mother sat next to her husband, he – the little boy – sat in the back, playing with toy soldiers. The scenery was rushing by them, wide, empty spaces. The sun was setting. There was a sign by the road: Glen Capri Motel, 3 miles. He remembered his parents. He remembered them talking about their work, about their hunt, about going after a pack of rabid dogs tonight. They were all business. He remembered his father. A tall, broad-shouldered men with dark hair and a moustache, sideburns, wearing aviators and a leather jacket. He remembered the smell of that jacket. That, and old spice, and gun powder. His father's scent. He remembered his mother. She had been a beautiful woman when her eyes still had joy in them. Noble features, long, golden hair, bright blue eyes. A lovely woman. They had been in love, they had been wonderful together. She had turned up the volume when Abba started playing, his father rolled his eyes a little but smiled when she began singing along to her favourite new song – Take A Chance On Me. She had been a woman of such joy, such happiness..._

* * *

They had gathered at nightfall. There had been signs of rain, clouds drawing in on them and by the time they had reached the Nemeton, it had begun drizzling. Lyka was cold, he could tell by the way she kept shaking and rubbing her arms through the jacket. But she didn't complain, not once. He felt his hair stick to his forehead. Waldorf was complaining (_'I am getting too old for this shit'_) but mostly to himself. The Hale's had brought a large number of wolves. Ennis was here with his pack, Kali too. Not even now could she be bothered to wear any shoes. Richard, Talia, Hector and Laura were here, along with three other, distant family members. The _nagual_ arrived just after them. The atmosphere was tense. They all seemed to worry how this would play out, how their southern kinsmen would handle the situation after what had went down not long over a month ago. But so far so good, Donovan McCall, Santiago McCall and a number of their men all seemed in the mood for making history as well. McCall and Richard greeted each other with tense handshakes, then the _nagual_ met Lyka by Deucalion's side.

"As promised, here we are," Donovan McCall said grimly. Deucalion and Lyka nodded in silent appreciation. Donovan looked down at their intertwined hands but didn't comment, yet he _did_ place a hand on Lyka's shoulder. "You know this is going to end in bloodshed, no? You've seen it."

She didn't respond so eventually, the _nagual_ returned to their own and waited, a little apart from the rest. Deucalion turned towards her.

"What was he talking about?"

"I don't know. He does that. All scary foreshadowing and such, it's his thing," she replied with a shrug. But her gaze wandered back to the men of her family. The _nagual_ were watching her attentively and she couldn't help but wonder… did they know? Of the dream that kept haunting her? Of the beast she saw killing her time and time again and no matter how she tried to alter the dream, it always ended up there. Had they seen it too? Morrell had said _nagual_ had a gift of premonition. Was this what it was? Was this her future? She turned away from them and towards Deucalion, placed a hand on his cheek. "You know, no matter what happens tonight, I love you."

She realised only when it had left her lips that it was the first time she said it. He hesitated, almost shocked, because words like this were all too often words of farewell. He wrapped an arm around her, pulled her close, kissed her hair.

"Nothing is going to happen. It will all be fine. You and me, we'll be fine," he promised.

It wouldn't be fine. His reaction was all the proof she needed. He felt it, too. He felt the threat in the air, felt the shivering of the energy of this place. Something was about to go terribly, terribly wrong and they both knew it. They just didn't know _what._

The sound of approaching people made their attention shift. They arrived. As agreed upon, the Hunters came to meet them.

Allison Argent was first to appear in the Nemeton, wearing a dark coat, standing under an umbrella. She was unarmed to show her good will. They had half expected her to show up here with guns prepared but she didn't. No crossbow, no knives, no guns. Just an umbrella and the other hand out of her pockets as well, to show that she wasn't holding any weapon there either.

Behind her came others. Dark dressed hunters, a large number of them from the Argent family. Gerard's son Chris, a man not much younger than Deucalion himself, with brown, curly hair, rather soft features, nothing like his father. His wife Victoria, a stern woman, harsh features, auburn hair tied back in a short ponytail, ice blue eyes that were piercing almost as sharp as daggers. Chris' younger sister Kate – not much older than Lyka herself. A young woman with long, blonde hair and a machine-gun in her arms. There were other hunters, not all of them were Argents. That had been expected. Talia looked around, saw part of the Drake family, the Constable's, Harrington's, Winchester's, Harvelle's, Mayfair's. Every hunter family that could be considered worthy of their attention had sent representatives. Most of them were armed. Guns, crossbows, a young man with a compound bow stood a bit in the distance, overlooking the meeting like a hawk. Some even brought particularly large calibre. But none of them, for now, seemed aggressive.

When the movement stopped there was a long moment where no one spoke. Lyka could feel the tension. All she heard was the steady breath of the tree. Then Talia made the first move. The woman stepped forwards and nodded.

"Thank you for reacting to our invitation. We hope to bury this pointless feud once and for all."

"No, thank _you_ for extending a hand once more. What happened four months ago was a tragedy that should have been avoided and I see it as my own responsibility. I should have known better and I apologise on behalf of my family for abusing the trust you and your people demonstrated. We hope to return the favour now," Allison Argent replied with a nod.

"Is that why you brought half your army and half your arsenal?" Donovan McCall commented sceptically. The Matriarch shifted her attention to him and there was a brief but obvious delay in her reaction. Almost like she did contemplate letting one of her hunters blow his brains out right there and then. But she controlled her urges.

* * *

_He remembered sitting in the motel room with his toys, looking out the window. His mother was on the phone. It had begun raining and she was talking to someone back home. He watched his father load the car with bags full of weapons. There were others now, three more cars with hunters and they were all preparing. They were talking and laughing, smoking, one had brought a pack of beer. He didn't know why they were here, but he knew they were going to hunt. He wanted to go with them. And he would. He looked at his mother who was talking with her hands as well, had her back turned on him now. So he snuck out of the room and to the cars. When the men weren't watching, he crawled in on his father's back seat, hiding underneath it to not be discovered. Not for long before the men got into their cars and started driving. Yes! He would go hunting as well! His daddy would be so proud!_

* * *

"I brought half my army because no, I do not lightly trust wolves. You did the same, you brought half _your_ army as well. Don't pretend like we're the only ones who came prepared. But I am hoping that we're all here because we want the fighting to end. I know I want that."

It took her much self-control, he could hear it in her voice. Of course she knew that wolf. Of course she knew he was the one who had ruined it all back then. But she also knew that he had done it in as much self-defence as rage. _They_ had come and attacked _him,_ that much was true.

Donovan McCall nodded slowly.

"Then so be it. Let these negotiations begin," he said. Allison Argent smiled. Perhaps, after all this time, things would change. She dared hope.

"Let us make history," she offered, her voice almost gentle and there was a brief moment that everyone seemed to relax, breaths were let go, smiles were exchanged across front lines. But it was just a moment.

"Yes, let's."

It happened so fast there was no possibility to react, to prevent the catastrophe. Richard Hale, the words had barelyleft his lips, shifted. All out wolf, monstrous, dark, fearsome. He leapt forward, knocking Talia out of the way, she stumbled with a shocked scream. The King was in the air for a moment and then he was over the Matriarch. The woman screamed in surprise and shock, her umbrella flew across the clearing, and the next moment, her screams were suffocated by blood. Claws were slashing, flesh tearing. And chaos broke loose. People were screaming, Talia was on her feet again, trying to pull her father away from the Matriarch, by that time the hunters started firing. Wolves shifted, projectiles were flying across the clearing.

* * *

_He remembered leaving the car when the others had left already, so they wouldn't catch him and drive him back to the motel. It was dark around them, they were off the road and he could see no lights. He was wandering around aimlessly looking for his fellow hunters or for their prey. He didn't hear the creature following him. Not until there was red light around him. He turned around, face to face with the most terrifying beast he could have ever imagined. Worse than any monster a child's mind could possibly dream up. It towered over him and then pushed him down, teeth digging in his flesh. He screamed, the high-pitched scream of a child._

_"Noah!" his father called in the distance, storming closer, firing his shotgun. The creature leapt to safety. When the father reached his bleeding son, he knew he was too late. Blood, oh so much blood, the boy so pale, so broken. "I'm getting you home, it'll be okay, son, it'll be alright." It wouldn't. The creature used the momentary distraction, leapt forward, buried father and son under it, clawing and biting. Alexander Argent was shooting, was bit in the leg and he could feel it instantly. He hit the creature, it retreated. Because it had no need to fight any longer. It knew it had achieved what had been intended. His father watched the blood stream from his leg, then stared at him. "Come on, let's get out of here…"_

_In the full moon, he carried him away, back to the car. The wolves were howling in the distance._

* * *

Lyka was being pulled away by her uncle, getting into cover. Not fast enough. A bolt hit her shoulder, sent her flying around, she landed in the mud, screamed angrily, eyes flashing golden. Santiago and Waldorf dragged her away.

"Deucalion!" she screamed. Again and again, calling his name. Because she knew, she felt it, and it scared her to death.

Deucalion was standing in the clearing, unmoving, bullets and bolts and arrows howling past him. He could feel the life seeping from the woman. The woman who had come here, trusting him, trusting _his_ judgment. She raised a hand, shaking, her voice gurgling when she spoke.

"Noah…" a sad, bloody smile in her voice. He fell to his knees, his hands shaking as they were searching for her. He found her face, one giant, open wound, blood everywhere, she whimpered in pain at the touch. She was hardly even human anymore, so distorted were her features. He couldn't speak, couldn't even…

"Deucalion!"

Talia's voice just as distant as Lyka's. He could smell them nearby while others were running for their lives. People were screaming, hunters being attacked and mauled, wolves shot, squirming on the ground as wolfsbane or mountain ash poisoning began killing them from the inside. He turned and growled, nothing human left in him in that moment when his eyes turned red and he shifted as well. He could sense him, he knew _exactly_ where he was. The man he had trusted, the man he had looked up to, the man he had called _father_ – and proudly so. The man who had betrayed him in the worst way one could. Deucalion was on his feet abruptly and attacked. Talia screamed, tried to stop the two men from going against each other. Hector wanted to interfere, he flew out of the way as well and then the two wolves clashed. With a force that was almost like thunder, their roaring and growling mixed with gunshots and screams all around them.

"It had to be done! They will never accept peace, they will never accept _us!_ I have fought this war a lot longer than you have, I know them! There can be no peace! There can never be-"

There was a horrible cracking when Deucalion caught Richard Hale's jaw and face, digging his claws in the flesh, and ripped them apart. The man's body dropped in a most unspectacular fashion, leaving the wolves that were still nearby to witness it in utter shock. The King was dead. Oh, long live the King. The blind Alpha stood with blood on his clothes, hands, face, his eyes burning red, fierce and menacing, his body heaving with every breath, making him look like a giant beast. Nothing human about him. There was a sudden rush of power through the Alpha victorious, his mighty roar shaking the Nemeton – a melding of pain and triumph. It stopped the entire battle for a moment, before hunters and wolves returned to killing each other. And he was left in between it all. Deucalion fell to his knees, pulling his mother's body in his arms. She was no longer breathing, her heart no longer beating, no longer pumping blood out of these deep, deep wounds. His howling turned to crying, terrible crying that would send any enemy running with sheer fear, as he could feel every hope of ending this war dying with her.

* * *

_He was whimpering in his father's arms as they were driving. There was so much blood, and the stench of the poison spreading in their bodies. When they arrived at the motel, Allison Argent was running towards the car. She was already crying, had been crying since she realised her son was missing, as if she knew if one returned early it had to mean tragedy. But she couldn't possibly comprehend how bad it was. Alexander stopped the car, opened the door and carried out their son._

_"I am sorry. I failed you. I failed us. I am sorry," he whispered, over and over as he handed their sons bleeding, broken body in his mother's care. Allison fell to her knees, holding the little boy to her. He hardly remembered any of that, it was all… distant, hazy, as the change was beginning in him, turning him into something he couldn't understand. _

_She didn't notice others coming, didn't notice them run towards her to comfort her. Didn't notice Alexander stealing away in the commotion. Only when she realised, when someone said '_Alpha'_ did she understand. She left her son in the care of another and went looking for her husband. She was screaming his name, begging for him not to, not to leave her alone now, not with this. She slammed against the locked door of their motel room, screaming for him, crying. All she heard was the words of the code whispered, then a single gunshot. And she knew it was too late. When finally someone kicked open the door and she stumbled in, Alexander Argent had already shot himself._

* * *

"Deucalion! She's been shot! Lyka has been shot!"

The only three words that could pull him out of it. Waldorf had called him and – no matter how terrible – he had to leave his mother's body by the roots of the old sacred tree. He blindly stumbled through the forest, following the sound of Waldorf's voice until someone grabbed his arm. He recognised the scent. Santiago McCall.

"Over here, brother, over here. She's alright, she'll be fine." The _nagual_ promised. They reached a sheltered area and Deucalion fell to his knees next to her. He could tell she was hurting, the smell of blood and the foul stench of poisoning was sticking to her. The bolt had been pulled out but the toxins were in her system already, they'd need to make an antidote soon. But now, she didn't care. She pulled him towards her, ignoring the blood, ignoring the battle roaring around them, just held him close. The shock of it all sat too deep within all of them to speak. He could tell she was crying, not just because she had to be in unimaginable pain thanks to the wolfsbane spreading in her system, also because she felt his every hope slip through their fingers like water. Like blood. They had wanted to stop the war, instead they had ended up right at the heart of it.

"Duke, we need to get her out of here, we need to get her treatment for that. Don't let anyone else die tonight."

Deucalion roared and grabbed Waldorf by the throat, fangs bared, eyes burning brighter than they ever had. But he stopped himself. This wasn't Waldorf's fault. It was _his_ fault. What a fool he had been to believe there could be peace. That the killing would ever stop, that their nature could change. Deaton had been right in the end. Stinging was the nature of the scorpion. Killing was the nature of them, all of them, hunters and wolves alike. Betraying each other, it was all they did, all they could, all they knew, all they were ever taught to do. There was no peace, there was nothing good in them, no trust. They were all monsters in the end.

He let go of Waldorf and nodded.

"Deaton… we need to take her… to Deaton… he'll know what to do..."

Santiago took Lyka from him, pulled her up in his arms to carry her, she was wincing in pain, sobbing, tried to suppress all-out crying. There were no words to describe the pain. She had heard about what wolfsbane poisoning felt like but she had not expected it to be this bad. It was like her body was fighting itself, trying to rip itself apart. Perhaps the pain was the only thing that had saved her from doing something incredibly dumb herself, like attacking Richard or a hunter or god knows who to protect Deucalion when he had stood in the open fire like that. She held on to her uncle, curling up like a ball in his arms as he carried her away from the battle. The sounds of the killing grew distant. She only looked back once and she saw the dark shadow of the tree that had once been there, sad and tragic as if it had known it would all end in bloodshed.

They reached the cars, Deucalion sat with his mate while Santiago drove behind Waldorf and Marco in the other car, they knew the way to the clinic. Deucalion didn't care right now. He held Lyka in his arms, tears were running down her face quietly and he rocked her in his arms.

"You're going to be alright, my love. I promise you, it will be alright…" he whispered.

"I know."

He felt her fingertips on his face and she leaned closer, gently kissed him. her lips were burning. He could taste salty tears. "You're the only one I'll ever allow to kill me."

She only managed to say that before her body began convulsing and her eyes rolled back in her head.

"Faster dammit!" Deucalion roared at Santiago.

"Going as fast as we can!" the _nagual_ replied. Deucalion didn't even really listen. He had his eyes closed and held on to her, could feel the poison spread and knew in that moment with most shocking certainty that if she died in his arms tonight he would kill every single living thing he came across. Friend, foe, hunter, wolf, human, it wouldn't matter. There would be only death in his wake. He had lost a mother and a father tonight, if he lost the one good thing he had left in his life, there was nothing he could possibly still care for. Nothing.

In the car ahead of them, Marco and Waldorf were grimly following the road away from the battle. The younger Beta spoke up first.

"You know this is his fault. _All of this_ could have been avoided had he not been so foolish and naïve."

"He couldn't have known. No one could have known that Richard would go crazy like this. It would have worked, there would have been peace," Waldorf insisted.

"You really believe that? You _really_ believe this bullshit? He is delusional. Now he's killed the King. The Hale's will not let this one go, they will come after us. They will kill us all and it's _his_ fault. He's no Alpha, he's a blind fool. And _we _are blind fools if we keep following him."

"You want to take it up with the guy who just ripped the head off the most powerful wolf to ever live? Be my guest," Waldorf commented with a shrug. Marco growled frustrated, but didn't reply anymore. He _knew_ he was right! Someday, maybe the others would see it too. But he would not let a blind fool lead them all to their deaths.

* * *

The Nemeton lay in silence as the grey light of dawn began crawling up on the horizon. The battle had long since ceased. They marched through the mud. Gerard, Chris and Victoria Argent. There were bodies. Many. Hunters and wolves alike. Richard Hale, the infamous, self-proclaimed King of all Wolves, was dead. His body lying in one corner, his head in another. Allison Argent was dead. The three hunters gathered around her body, her mutilated face, her white hair dirty and bloody and fanned out around her head like a broken halo. Nothing was left of the majestic woman she had been. Chris shook his head in disbelief as he went to crouch next to the woman's body.

"Told you. I told you these monsters couldn't be trusted. I told you they'd turn on us. I told you it was in their nature," Gerard said grimly. It wasn't clear who he was talking to. To himself? To his son and daughter-in-law? To the dead woman below them? It didn't really matter.

"They _will_ pay for this." Victoria said through gritted teeth.

"They _have_ paid for this." Chris reminded. He nodded over at Richard Hale's body. "The man responsible for Allison's death paid with his life. We hunt those who hunt us. There is no need to spill more blood."

"You would let them get away like that? After what happened here tonight? Look around, son. Those bodies, that could be your sister. That could be your _daughter."_

"They lost as much as we did tonight. Let's… not make this worse than it already is."

Gerard grumbled, shook his head.

"What more proof do you need? They are monsters. They ambushed me, killed my men. Then they lied to everyone, pretending _they_ were the victims, to lure us out here again. They need to be put down like the rabid dogs they are. All of them!"

Chris did not reply. Deep down, he knew it was the wrong way. It was not what their Matriarch would have wanted, not how this was meant to happen. But he knew, ultimately, the war would not end. Not after this. So much blood spilled for no reason. At the end, they were right back where they started.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_*_Rains of Castamere starts playing in the distance_*_

_If this had not been written on the PC but on paper by hand you'd actually not be able to read any of it because my tears would have made it all completely unreadable. And this was only the beginning! People are starting to die all over the place now and I can't bear it! My fellow RP players always call me the 'G.R.R. Martin of RPs' because I usually kill my original characters in a most dramatic fashion but none of them realise that it's soooo painful to do that! I know Allison was only in one chapter but that woman meant the world to me! So did crazy Richard, in all his insanity! Well, Lyka warned us all, didn't she? '_that short, beautiful time she had spent with him, followed by the long terrible years running _from_ him_'. It's not like we didn't have it coming._

_So if you need me, I'll be in the corner, sobbing, probably spending the next few chapters in the fetal position because it won't get better..._


	19. Betrayal

**Angst and pain ahead. Have some ice cream.**

* * *

**Betrayal**

He sat by her side in the small chamber in the back of Deaton's clinic. He remembered the last time he had been in this room. The day Deaton had taken off the bandages of his eyes to inform him he'd never be able to see again. It didn't compare to the terror he felt now. The terror of possibly losing his mate, his Queen. He had never felt more powerful than today, had never been more... blind, more helpless.

Deaton had been positive. Said she was strong and they had been here in time, he had been able to make a proper antidote with the bolt they had delivered to him. Said her body was fighting the positioning well and she'd recover just fine. And Deucalion sat by her side through it all. Through the screams and the pain, through the shallow breaths and slow, irregular heartbeat. Right until now when she sounded like she was actually asleep. He had not even left to change his clothes or shower off the blood and dirt he was covered in. There was only room for one thing on his mind and that was her well-being. He did not dare think of the disaster they had left behind at the Nemeton, was certain he'd lose his mind if he bothered thinking about it so he focused on the one thing that could still turn out well. His mate could still survive. _Would_ survive.

He could tell when she woke by the way her heartbeat and breathing changed before she sighed painfully. He moved closer, his hands searching for her face. She looked up when she felt his touch. Everything was still blurry but she knew it was him immediately.

"Hi…" she whispered, forced a smile to her lips.

"Hi yourself," he returned. She took his hand, he squeezed it. "You gave me the scare of a lifetime."

"I'm fine…ish."

He leaned closer very slowly until his lips touched her forehead. And there they stayed for a long time. He dared not move, needed to feel that she was real, that she had made it out of there alive. He didn't know how many had been killed up there but he had a feeling there were a lot. She closed her eyes, exhausted, tired, as if she had fought for hours and hours. Her body had, hadn't it? Fought a battle against a foe they couldn't see and she had come out victorious. "What happened…?"

"What do you remember?" he asked as he sat down next to her, caressing her cheek, holding her hand. She drew several breaths before she answered.

"Richard… your… your mother…"

"Richard's dead. So is my mother," he replied. Lyka hesitated long, couldn't speak, couldn't find words. Then she mustered all her strength to sit up. She put her arms around his neck, holding herself up and hugging him in the process.

"I am sorry," she whispered, he heard tears in her voice. He didn't speak. He just held her, face buried in her hair. He couldn't tell her what he had done. Couldn't put in words that he, himself, had killed Richard. Would she understand? Would she hate him for it? He didn't know, he couldn't tell. He didn't even know if he hated himself for it, or if he would be able to forgive himself. Then it had seemed like the only right thing. Now… now he was sure he had rendered all his years of work completely worthless. Not only had he now no chance to ever make peace with the hunters, he had also alienated the Hale's for good. It was all so messed up.

But that was not all there was. There was also the power. He could feel it, boiling inside him. More beast than ever before. He had killed an Alpha. What did that make him? He had already _been_ an Alpha, what would killing _another_ Alpha do to him? What was he? What was he becoming? How far had he already fallen from the man of peace he had wanted to be? A killer. Weren't they all killers? He was, Richard was, even Lyka was. Only the killers survived.

He caressed her hair, her cheeks, pulled her into a kiss.

"It's over. It's all over now. We're here. You and me, we're fine. I promised you that. We'll always be fine," he whispered against her lips, then closed his arms around her again, holding her so close she almost couldn't breathe. When he heard someone enter he raised his head. The others had walked in, he could sense them. His senses were heightened beyond belief after the kill, it was like he was in a power rush. Was this what it felt like to become an Alpha by killing another Alpha? If so, he never wanted that feeling to stop. Too much had been destroyed; he would need this kind of power to protect what was left: The woman in his arms.

"Thank God, cupcake, you made it." Waldorf said. Lyka looked up and smiled at him. Marco was there, and even Santiago. But the smile faded when she spotted Talia, who was standing behind Waldorf, arms crossed over her chest, face almost frozen.

"You need to leave. I can't offer you shelter any longer. The alliance will not take this lightly and… while I am doing my best to not take this personal… neither can I. You have to leave, Deucalion. For good."

He nodded slowly, had suspected as much. Lyka stayed quiet and he expected that meant she knew. Had probably attributed it to her hazy memory but now it had been confirmed. She knew what he had done.

"Give us a bit of time to gather ourselves, then we'll be gone," he asked. Lyka saw Talia nod.

"I've been informed that the Ma… that your mother has been taken to the morgue of the county hospital. If you want to… I don't know, say goodbye, I guess."

And with these words, Talia left. She was cold, distant, it was not like her but Lyka guessed it was understandable. After what had happened, things would never be the same again. It was a miracle she even let them go. Deaton stayed behind when she was gone, Waldorf, Santiago and Marco stood in the door. Lyka leaned to touched Deucalion's face.

"It's alright. It will be alright," she whispered.

"I'm a monster," he replied, his voice shaking. She shook her head.

"No. No you're not. He betrayed your trust. He killed your mother."

"He took me in. He raised me. And I killed him. There is no excuse for what I did. I should have died back then. They should have killed me when I was a child."

She gasped, sat up straight… and had slapped his face the next moment. She almost instantly felt terrible, sobbed and apologised.

"I am sorry. But don't ever say that. She believed you were alive for a reason. Don't throw that away!"

She saw Waldorf shift nervously.

"We should really leave."

She nodded slowly. It took her a while to get to her feet properly. Deucalion remained on the uncomfortable table – it wasn't even a bed, just a surgical table in the veterinarian clinic. She had her hands on his face and kissed his forehead.

"Let's go to the hotel, get our things."

"I… need a moment alone, please," Deucalion spoke in a low voice. Lyka hesitated. It tore her heart apart to see him like that, to be unable to help him. But she nodded. She kissed him again, a kiss he didn't return – couldn't return right now. She put his hands to her lips, he could feel she was shaking. She was losing him. She could feel it and it was painful. She had never been all too religious but right now she prayed to any God that might listen that they would help them get through this. She left with the others, the door closed. But he wasn't alone, he could sense it. Heard the other heartbeat moving closer slowly and recognised the scent.

"Marco, please, I really don't have the nerve for this right now. Leave me alone," he sighed. He was too exhausted, too tired from all of it. From the battle, the flight from the Nemeton, from sitting by Lyka's side for hours and hours, wondering if she'd ever even wake up. He couldn't deal with this now, with the inevitable _'I love to say I told you so'_ Marco had no doubt prepared ever since they dragged themselves away from the massacre.

He heard Marco growl a little.

"Here's the thing, Duke. You _are_ alone."

He didn't see it coming. Claws slicing the skin over his chest. He stumbled back, felt blood, his own blood, soak his clothes. He gasped perplexed, in utter disbelief.

So there it was. The sudden but inevitable betrayal. He should not be as surprised by it as he was. It was in their nature after all, wasn't it? Their nature to betray and kill, their nature to turn on their own. He should have seen it coming, that sooner or later Marco would turn on him. When would the others? When would Waldorf try to stab him in the back? When would Lyka try to slit his throat in his sleep? _No! No, no, no! She wouldn't!_ Not Lyka, not his Lyka, never! Or would she? Right now, he did not know. There was no faith in humankind left in him. None. His own silly, naïve words echoed in his head. _'I had a vision! A vision of peace!'_ Now, more than ever, he was in the dark. Because that last glimpse of light, that silly vision of his, was gone.

He could smell the adrenalin in the air, heard the Beta's heart beat faster, heard his steps on the floor. He could grab the other man when he attacked again, made him stumble around. And then he heard the growl again. Marco had all out shifted and was attacking. They flew over a table with medicine or whatever, landed on the floor, he could kick Marco off himself. And now he shifted himself. He felt the power within him beginning to burn up, setting him ablaze from the inside. His muscles seemed to tear, every bone seemed to crack. He was not himself anymore, he realised. Something had changed. There was flickering movement in the darkness of his vision and then… red. He was irritated for a moment but then saw… moving shadows approaching him. Recognised Marco's face just a moment before the Beta attacked again.

Deucalion bared his fangs when he grabbed the Beta's arm as he attacked. There was a snap when he dislocated the young man's shoulder. Marco screamed. Deucalion pushed him backwards, the wolf stumbled, fell onto the table and a moment later saw the long claws of the Alpha slash down upon him. There were not many screams, just as long as the vocal cords were still intact, which was not long. But it was enough to attract the attention of the others still in the clinic. Lyka and Waldorf gasped, exchanged a look.

"Marco," they both hissed, only now truly realising that the other Beta was not with them. And they ran. Ran back to the chamber as fast as they could, crashing into the door, into the room.

There was blood everywhere. Marco wasn't moving. Wasn't even Marco anymore. Just… slices of flesh and skin on the surgical table. Deucalion was covered in blood, was still halfway a wolf, his silvered eyes twitching, he was breathing heavy through his teeth.

Lyka had never seen Waldorf so scared. There was something she couldn't describe with any other word but pure terror on his face. Santiago, who was behind them, had his dark brows pulled into the deepest frown and when he met Waldorf's gaze they seemed to have an understanding. But she couldn't worry about it right now. She left the older wolves side and rushed towards Deucalion, reaching for him but hesitated suddenly. Her hands were shaking when she reached to touch him.

He flinched and growled when he felt the touch but it took him less than a second to recognise her. His features softened. Lyka. _His_ Lyka. His light, everything good he needed. She would _never_ betray him, right? She wasn't like Marco, she was honest and good and true and as long as he had her, everything would be alright.

"What the hell happened here?" Waldorf asked breathless.

"You're bleeding," Lyka whispered. He heard the tears. He heard that she didn't trust her voice enough to speak any louder and when he reached to touch her face in an attempt to wipe away the tears she flinched away. The blood. He realised belated that he was of course covered in blood. He pulled his hand away.

"I didn't mean to frighten you."

She shook her head.

"It's alright. It's just… a lot of blood…" she whispered. She was shaking. She had really hoped not to see this much blood again after her initiation.

"Hello? What _the hell_ happened here?!" Waldorf repeated his question more insistent.

"He attacked me. Tried to kill me. I guess he was hoping to… become the Alpha, thought I was weakened."

"So you turned him into a jigsaw puzzle?" Waldorf asked upset.

"I defended myself," Deucalion growled back and Lyka could tell he was one fuse short of attacking Waldorf as well. She placed a hand on his arm, the other on his face.

"It's alright… it happened, we can't change it. It will all… be alright…"

She didn't believe her own words, no matter how much she was preaching them to herself, but that didn't matter right now. He stepped closed, buried his face in her hair and she wrapped her arms around him. She didn't look at the dead Beta near them but she felt tears running down her cheeks. Not necessarily for Marco. But for what this meant. This would not just blow over like a bad dream. This changed everything and she wasn't sure if they were ready for this. If they ever could be ready for it.

She led him out of the room and she saw the looks Santiago and Waldorf gave them. Waldorf even slowly shook his head, but whatever he wanted to say, he didn't.

* * *

They reached the hotel room. Deucalion had not spoken a word the entire ride, none of them had. Now they were alone and Lyka helped him out of his bloody clothes. When he went to shower off the dirt and blood, he pulled her under the water with him, fully dressed, and they stood in the cabin together for what seemed like an eternity. They didn't speak a single word. She didn't even know what to talk about. Everything that came to mind eventually led to talk about murder and bloodshed and massacres and war. That was not the kind of conversation she wanted to have, not now. So they just quietly showered.

He had his eyes closed, his forehead resting on her shoulder. The water falling onto them was almost too hot to be comfortable, almost boiling, but he couldn't be bothered to change the temperature. Blood and dirt were staining the cabin and the water as it poured down the drain. Lyka was rubbing his skin to get the crust of dirt off him and he had begun taking her clothes off slowly until she was naked as well. He could feel that, despite the water, she was shivering. He could feel her heart when he pulled her against him. He knew that rhythm well. He wanted to be gentle but realised when he pulled her close that he was probably hurting her.

"You're scared of me," he declared. He sounded so hurt, disappointed almost. She shook her head.

"I am worried," she whispered against his lips. He kissed her gently.

"You don't have to worry. I'll never let any harm come to you again. I will take care of all of this. I told you, remember? You're mine, and I protect what is mine."

He cocked his head a little and pressed his lips to hers in a rough, almost painful kiss. He could taste that it wasn't just water running over her face, there were salty tears as well and it enraged him that she would cry. Yet the more he tried to sooth her, the angrier he became. He grabbed her legs, pulled her up and pressed her back against the shower wall, making her wrap her legs around him. He was in her without a warning, a painful, deep thrust that made her cry out. There was more pain than there should be, she knew that. He was too brutal, to forceful. There was too much anger in him right now, nothing gentle. She closed her eyes, bit her lip and held onto him, tried not to cry for what they were losing although she felt it. As much as she loved him, now she was not sure if he even was the man she had fallen in love with anymore. But she was here. She'd always be here for him, because she knew he needed her, now more than ever. Even if he hurt her now, she knew he was in just as much pain because of what had happened. And it made her remember the promise she had given to the Matriarch. The promise to always watch out for him. As if the woman had known it would come to this, had known how much he would need her so soon.

He came hard and he knew he was hurting her, knew she was bruised on her back from the wall, and bruised on her legs, from slamming into her. He wanted to stop, but he couldn't. Too much anger, too much pain. He needed to feel her too much, needed to feel that she was alive, that she was here, that she was real. And the fact that she understood, that she didn't fight him for it, didn't push back but just let him hurt her, made him even angrier. Eventually he fell to his knees, pulling her down with him, holding her close and she just quietly caressed his wet hair.

"I… love you," he eventually whispered. She closed her eyes and kissed his temple. "I can't… I don't know how to show you. But… I love you."

"I know," she whispered.

"You can't _ever_ leave me. I'll never hurt you but… If you leave me, I…"

"I'm not. I'm not going to leave you. Ever," she promised, her voice so gentle.

But oh, weren't they both such formidable liars? Lying so well that they didn't even know they were doing it.

* * *

**Author's note:**

*'Rains of Castamere' still playing in the distance*

_There is just sO MUCH PAIN! Because I know what's coming and I just can't anymore. Marco was a dick but now he's dead! Everyone dies! This is why we can't have nice things!_

_Sorry, I'll try to stop crying now... I'll try. Eating lots of ice cream will help._


	20. Demon

**Possible trigger warning for domestic violence ahead, this will be a recurring issue in the next few chapters.**

* * *

**Demon**

He was resting and she watched over him.

They had driven all day, no one really talked. A long and quiet day. The seat where Marco used to sit was a gaping hole none of them dared to look at. Santiago had been in the car behind them, he would accompany them part of the way back to Boston, wanted to make sure his niece was recovering. Word was travelling fast and packs they came across urged them to move on quickly. The rage of the Hale pack after the death of their Eldest was feared all over the country and anyone who offered shelter to the Boston pack would suffer the consequences. The only reason the Hale's had not yet come after them was because the Argent's had sworn revenge and Beacon Hills was effectively at war. They just had better things to do then go after them right now.

in the afternoon, they reached a motel and stopped for the day. They would continue their journey tomorrow, early in the morning, but for now, they needed the break.

Lyka sat on the bed next to him, wearing only her underwear and one of his dark shirts big enough on her to be a short dress. He was asleep, sprawled out on the bed, and she was watching him, so peaceful beside her. She caressed his hair, his cheek, just with her fingertips, just so he'd know she was here.

When there was a soft knocking at the door, he was shifting a little in his sleep. She looked up, then leaned to kiss his temple, just ever so softly, before she climbed out of bed and went to the door. Waldorf waited outside, grimly determined.

"We need to talk," the older wolf declared, looking past her to see if Deucalion was there.

"He's asleep, I don't want to wake him now-"

"Not him. You. _Just_ you."

Waldorf grimly nodded to the room next door where she knew Santiago stayed. She hesitated.

"I... don't want to leave him alone," she whispered, shaking her head.

"He'll live. It's important."

She sighed, but then she did take her room key and left with Waldorf. Barefoot as she was. They reached Santiago's room and she found her uncle packing.

"What's going on?"

Santiago looked up, looked around like he was trying to make sure it was _really_ just her who had come.

"I need to tell Donovan about this. It is not natural. It is _evil."_

"What the hell are you talking about?" Lyka asked upset, already tired of this conversation. Santiago, his brows had not really left that deep frown since Beacon Hills, marched over to her and pulled her by the arm. Revealing the bruises on her wrist.

"He's hurting you."

She pulled away.

"Not intentionally. It's... when we sleep, he holds me and he... I think he's afraid I'll slip away."

"Those are bruises, Lyka. You're a wolf, you have superhuman healing and still he manages to bruise you. You _know_ that's not normal," Santiago insisted.

"What are you getting at?"

She could sense that there was more. There was something he didn't tell her. _They_ didn't tell her. Because whatever it was, Waldorf was in on it. She had seen it in Deaton's clinic, that silent exchange between the two and now she needed to know what was really going on. When neither of them spoke, she crossed her arms over her chest. "I'll march right back over there unless you two tell me what the hell this is really about!"

"He killed one of his own, Lyka. When an Alpha does that... it changes them. It... turns them into something else..."

"What do you mean?"

Her posture relaxed, her frown now just as deep as Santiago's was. He sighed exhausted, rubbed his face.

"There is a legend among our people."

"You have legends for everything, don't you?" she interrupted, visibly annoyed. He cast her a scolding look.

"We are very old people with very old traditions, we have to keep the legends of our past alive, it's all that will remain of us in the end. The point is... we have a legend about wolves that kill their own. A Superior – or Alpha, to you – is connected with his wolves, his Beta's, through the bite. They are part of him, he is part of them. He gives something of his to them and in return, they are forever connected to him. But... when a Superior kills one of his own... it leaves darkness to them. It is... like you're killing part of your soul. And once they've killed one, they can never stop. They'll kill their entire pack."

"Bullshit. Marco attacked Deucalion, he defended himself. He has no reason to attack anyone else," Lyka protested.

"No, he doesn't, but that won't matter. Killing one of your own gives you power, but at a cost. He will see treason behind every corner; he will think that eventually, we'll all turn on him. He'll kill all of us in time," Waldorf explained. Lyka flew around to him.

"You believe this bullshit?!"

"I've seen it happen. My old pack, you never wondered what happened to them? Our Alpha went crazy, killed four of us, Susan and I were the only ones to make it out alive. We were on the run for nine years before some other Alpha killed him."

Lyka shook her head violently.

"No. No, he's not like that. He's _not_ a killer."

"Really? Because I've seen him kill two men in one day, that seems like a killer to me," Santiago declared. And stumbled backwards the next moment after Lyka had punched him in the face. She probably hurt herself just as much as him, shaking her fist angrily.

"You don't know him! You don't know anything about him. He's not a killer. He is not going to harm anyone in this pack!" she declared, couldn't even scream in all her outrage, her voice hardly more than a whisper.

"I sincerely hope you're right, Cupcake," Waldorf whispered, worry in his voice. Santiago wiped the blood off his chin and laughed a short, tired laugh.

"You got your mother's right hook," he noted, then was stern again. "I have to tell your grandfather, he needs to know what Deucalion did, he needs to be aware of the potential threat. Wolves like Deucalion are dangerous, Lyka. We have a name for things like him, for wolves who kill their own. _El lobo del diablo_. We will not let him become one. If we learn of more of your pack dying... we will go after him, we will kill him before it's too late. Please, for your own safety... don't stay if he hurts you. Leave."

She didn't respond when Santiago took his bag and jacket, his car keys. She repeated his words in her mind. _El lobo del diablo_. The Devil's wolf. When she looked up, her uncle had stepped towards her. He placed a hand on her shoulder and kissed her forehead quickly. "Be careful."

"Nothing will happen," she whispered. He nodded slowly, then looked over at the older wolf.

"Watch out for her while I can't?"

Waldorf nodded back slowly. Then Santiago was out the door. They heard the car door, the engine, then he was gone. For as long as that took, they had not moved, stood like statues in the empty room. Only then did Lyka turn towards Waldorf, worry in her eyes.

"Is that... really what happened to your old pack?"

"I wouldn't make something like that up. I couldn't. You will not believe what I've seen in my days, Cupcake."

He sounded sincere. The usual humorous spark in Waldorf's eyes was gone, she knew he was not kidding around. But she still shook her head.

"I can't abandon him, Waldorf. Not now. Not when everyone turns away. He lost his mother, his father figure, Marco betrayed him, Talia turned her back on him… I can't leave him."

"Talia didn't turn her back on him," Waldorf corrected her.

"She exiled us."

"You were knocked out a long time, Cupcake, and Duke was too busy watching over you. Talia was fighting her family tooth and nail for him. In the end, her brother made some pretty compelling arguments. She had to send us away to keep things from boiling over. She did this as much to appease her family as to protect our pack. It's best if we stay out of her hair, just until things have calmed down."

"Deucalion doesn't know that. He thinks she turned on him. I can't abandon him now, Waldorf."

"I know you can't. But I want you to know that if he loses it, I'm out. I have seen too much of this shit to do this again. When it comes to that, it's every wolf for himself."

"It won't come to that."

He quietly watched her, his gaze wandering to the bruises on her wrist. Then he nodded slowly. Oh how he hoped she'd be right. because if she wasn't she'd be the one to suffer most. She'd be the one whose heart would be shattering into a million pieces if Deucalion went on that killing spree. He put a hand on her shoulder.

"Just... promise me you won't let him hurt you?"

"He won't hurt me," she assured him. She left him in the empty room but on her way back hesitated. She looked down at her bruised wrist. He _was_ hurting her, wasn't he? He didn't mean to, she knew that. But he _was_ having trouble controlling it. She knew it was all weighing heavy on him and he was afraid. Afraid of losing more than he already had. Afraid of losing her.

She returned to their shared room, closed the door behind her and when she turned around, Deucalion stood directly in front of her. She gasped, surprised.

"Gosh, you scared me," she hissed.

"Where were you?" he asked, his voice raw. She looked at him alarmed. He looked... haunted, restless... rabid.

"Santiago left to join his people again, he wanted to say goodbye."

"So I can tell, I can smell him on you."

"He gave me a kiss on the forehead. He _is_ my uncle," she replied, shaking her head calmly. She walked past him, gently brushed his arm as she did. He grabbed her wrist, making her pull in a breath through her teeth sharply. The bruise was painful, more so than she wanted to admit.

"You're my mate. He has no business touching you without my permission," he growled.

"Deucalion, he's my uncle."

"You're _mine_!"

His eyes lit up red. He was bristling with anger, for no reason at all. Inevitably, the words of warning Waldorf had told her resounded in her ears. _He will see treason behind every corner_. She felt her heart stumble. No. No she would not believe this nonsense. She would not lose him to whatever legend the _nagual_ claimed was fulfilling itself. He was not this... devil wolf they thought he was. He would snap out of this!

"No one is going to take me away from you, Deucalion."

"No, they won't. And you won't sneak out again," he growled.

"You were asleep, you clearly needed rest, I didn't want to wake you."

"So you _were_ sneaking out."

She frowned, shook her head.

"This is not some conspiracy against you. I was saying goodbye to my uncle, had a chat with Waldorf, then came back. To you. You don't have to lock me up or keep me on a leash, I won't turn on you."

"You will not leave me again!" he yelled. In a brief moment, the building seemed to shake under his anger, a distant thunder rolled towards them, the surge of power she had seen before, when he had these nightmares. It had already scared her then, now it _terrified_ her. But while her mind was still processing that, with his words hardly completed, he had stepped towards her and slapped her in the face. So hard that she flew around, collapsed to the floor. She tasted blood, felt her skin broken where he had hit her cheekbone. On impact, all air had abruptly left her lungs so she drew in a sharp breath now.

There was a moment of utter shock and silence in the air. He stood frozen. What had he done?! He had hit her! He had hit Lyka. What the hell had come over him?! With shaking hands and weak knees, he came closer, fell to the ground next to her. "L-Lyka I... I am so sorry I... I don't know what I... what came over me, I..."

He reached for her and she flinched away with what he could only identify as a sob. Dear God, what had he done?! How could he do this to her, how could he hurt her? Why had his mind twisted everything she had said into making him believe she was lying, she was trying to leave. _She wasn't_. Why didn't his mind believe her. He knew her, he _knew_ she wouldn't abandon him. How could he doubt her like this?

He knew, after this, he should give her space, knew she probably hated him - and rightfully so. But he couldn't be without her, not now, not when he was so clearly losing his mind. He felt his sanity slipping away, being replaced by madness and desperation and the only thing he could hold on to was her. He was reaching for her and she pulled away.

She retreated until her back hit the wall, where she wrapped her arms around her knees, tried to hold back the tears. But he was there, closer and although she wanted to push him away, she couldn't. Because she saw on his face how lost he was. Scared, like he didn't even know what was happening to him. Intuitively she reached for him and when he found her hands, he moved closer. Apologizing over and over, he kissed her cheek, the small cut in her skin that was slowly healing, her eyelids, her lips, before he pulled her into his arms. And she held on to him, held on for dear life because she couldn't lose him. Not like this.

They didn't speak that night. Even though she silently cried herself to sleep in his arms. Even though he held her so tight that, at times, she struggled to breath.

* * *

**Author's note:**

_Next chapter will be less tragic, I promise. Mostly because I need to catch a breather from all the drama. And because it will be the kind of _'okay, everything is calming down, maybe it wasn't as bad as we feared'_ moment. Before, you know, things go down. _

_I apologise if my little Spanish term thrown in there is nonsense, I don't speak Spanish at all, I just used google translate... so if anyone has a better, dramatic sounding term for '_wolf of the devil / Devil's wolf_' (not demon wolf, I wanted to separate that on purpose) let me know, then I'll change it. _

_In response to the guest review – Talia's part is not yet over. Her motives for sending them away and her position on the entire thing will come back in future chapters, just for now, it had to look (to Deucalion) like she abandoned them. Adding to his idea that everyone eventually will betray one another, because that will be all he sees in the end. Betrayal. We don't know Talia's side of things yet, only what Waldorf has let slip for now._

_Now, let's all take a break from the sadness and pretend, for a few days, that everything is good. Yes, everything is good._

*in complete denial*


	21. Return

**No warnings! Woohooo!**

* * *

**Return**

They returned to Boston about a week before the next full moon.

After Deucalion's outburst of anger, he had done his best to keep in control. His _very_ best. He could tell Lyka was still anxious, but that she stayed by his side despite the way he had behaved really made him want to shower her with love. She noticed that, she appreciated it. Was she still terrified off him? Yes, no doubt about it. She was careful around him, watched her words, never left his side during the journey. She realised she was losing herself. Felt… empty, hollow, uneasy and she knew she shouldn't. She shouldn't have to change everything she was just to accommodate his moods. It was unhealthy and she knew that. But she refused to give up, she refused to stop fighting for this relationship and for this pack and for him.

When they returned to Boston, Waldorf dropped her off at the dorm so she could let Liv know they were back. Her friend took one long, worried look at her, she did not need more.

"Are you okay?" Liv asked worried.

"Yes. I'm fine."

"Really? Because you have what looks _a lot_ like the remainder of a black eye and that's weird. Do I need to worry? Did you get in a fight with the wolves in California?"

"It's fine, Liv, I'm fine. It's nothing, it's…"

But Liv saw right through her, through the excuses, the avoiding. She turned to the window, saw the car still waiting outside in the rain, Deucalion was waiting for her. And the penny dropped. Liv flew around to her friend in disbelief.

"Dear God please tell me he did _not_ hit you."

"No. No he-"

"_Lyka Braeden McCall_, don't you dare bullshit me, I've known you for over ten years! I see right through you," Liv warned in her most impressive stage voice and she even used Lyka's full name - which was something she only did when she was really, really mad. Kind of like a mother. Lyka didn't respond for a long time, then slowly shook her head.

"He… didn't mean to."

"Oh hell to the no, he's going down! I am going to shove his walking stick so far up his ass he'll choke on it!" Liv declared furiously and was all but out the door when Lyka caught her, held her back.

"No, Liv, it's fine. It was… we were all on edge after Beacon Hills. It was a mess out there and we… he was losing it. But it's fine now. He didn't mean to hurt me."

Liv stared at her in blank horror. She took her best friends hand, saw the bruises on her arms and slowly shook her head.

"Lyka… listen to yourself," she begged. "If this were anyone of our friends, you'd be the first to yell at her to get the frack out. You'd tell her to leave the dickbag that treats her like this, you'd be the one to drag her to the police to press charges against that asshole."

"That's not… it's not…"

"_The hell it is_! You're bruised all over. Call him what you want,_ I_ call him an abusive husband and I'll call him that to his pretty face right now!"

"Liv please! We've been through… through a lot. Please, let me handle this, let me make this right, _please."_

Liv stopped cold, frozen to the spot, couldn't move. She had never heard Lyka beg like this, never. She sighed.

"God Lyka what are you doing to yourself. You don't deserve this."

"I know. And he knows. We're working on it, I promise. It'll be fine. _I_ will be fine."

She packed fresh clothes under Liv's watchful eyes. It broke her heart to see Lyka like that. She was shaking, she was struggling, she was scared and exhausted. She looked like she hadn't slept well in days, deep shadows under her eyes. She looked… older, no longer the girl she had been a few weeks ago, she had visibly aged for what seemed like years. It was painful to watch. Liv slowly shook her head.

"He's sucking the life out of you, Lyka. You can't go back to him…"

"I have to. He needs me, more than you know. If I leave him now… I don't know what he will do. I really don't," Lyka admitted. Really, she was not sure anymore. Two weeks ago, she would have bet anything against anyone who said Deucalion would turn into a cold blooded, mad killer. But now… now she was not so sure anymore. She sometimes didn't even recognise him anymore. Felt like she was looking at a stranger.

"I need you to promise me that you'll come right back here if he hurts you again. Don't stay, don't make stupid excuses for him, pack your things and leave."

Lyka just smiled, put a hand on her best friends cheek and pressed a kiss on the other side. Then she left the dorm. Liv stayed behind, watched from the window as her friend appeared on the street, where Deucalion was waiting in the rain. When she got to the car he put a hand in her neck in a gesture that could be gentle, but seemed uncomfortably possessive in context. He pulled her closer, pressed his lips on her hair before she climbed into the car. Then he followed, closed the door and they drove off. Liv felt nauseous. This wasn't right. She knew it, it wasn't right to let her leave with him. She had no idea what Deucalion would be capable of, but she knew for a fact that she did not like the thought of her best friend being alone with him, not one bit.

* * *

Waldorf dropped them off at Deucalion's building and watched as she guided him inside. Then he drove off. He didn't feel good doing so. In fact, he felt mortified. He hoped, prayed to any God that might listen, that Deucalion would stay sane enough not to go against her. Not Lyka. Not the little Cupcake. Although, she wasn't really a Cupcake anymore, was she? She had been when she joined the pack – the quirky, little puppy with the big attitude and loud mouth. But what was really left of her? She was a husk, flinched every time Deucalion spoke a little louder than usual. Of course Waldorf had seen the black eye. When he had tried to ask about it, she had laughed it off as an accident but he knew it wasn't. He knew he had hit her. She could see it in his face, too, the guilt. But guilt was good! As long as he still felt guilt for his actions, maybe things would eventually turn out well.

He drove out to the warehouse. He had missed it. He had missed the dusty, mouldy smell, the echoing hall, the chatter of the others. When he arrived there he found the pack almost exactly where they'd left them weeks ago. Teasing each other, joking, drinking beer together. They cheered when they saw him come closer.

"Waldorf! My man, back in the house!" Statler declared cheerfully. Susan scooted over to let him sit down between them.

"Where's the rest? Duke and Lyka? Marco?"

"The Boss and his lady are at his home. Marco… Marco's dead."

He hated to have to be the one to deliver the news. Of course they had told the pack about the massacre at the Nemeton – he had called them from Deaton's clinic. But that was before Deucalion had snapped and killed Marco. After that, he had not had the mind to call them. He had been too busy watching Deucalion – and failing at watching over Lyka.

He felt the cheerful, carefree mood die away.

"What?" Abigail asked in disbelief.

"How did that happen? Last we heard from you, you were all doing okay!" Paul protested.

"Well, we're not doing okay anymore, obviously," Waldorf snapped back.

"Duke must be devastated…" Abigail whispered, shaking her head, a hand over her lips.

"How did it happen?" Liam asked, tossing Waldorf a beer. The older wolf looked like he needed it. Waldorf caught the can, opened it, took a first sip and knew the others were watching him, waiting for his story.

"Deucalion killed him."

"What?!" came the collective question from Statler, Abigail, Paul and Liam. Only Susan didn't speak and it was her reaction he watched the closest. The old she-wolf seemed frozen solid, her eyes wide with shock but not a word left her lips. He turned away from her.

"Marco got ambitious… waited till Duke was alone, attacked him. Duke defended himself, ripped the kid to pieces."

"God Marco, such an idiot…" Paul grumbled, shaking his head.

"He kinda had it coming…" Abigail agreed. But they both were just as shocked as Liam was. Having lost one of their own… and in such a gruesome way no less.

"Why did he have to kill him? I mean, Marco was an asshole, but I am sure had he just… disciplined him…" Liam contemplated.

"Duke was not himself, he was still shaken up with what happened at the Nemeton and Lyka had _just_ recovered from her poisoning. Marco picked him at his most vulnerable and you know what they say about a cornered beast. It's done, can't change it, moving on."

Waldorf rose from his seat and met Susan's attentive gaze. "A word?" he asked. She nodded quietly, took her beer and a cigarette and followed him outside. They walked a while until they were sure to be out of hearing range, then she lit her cigarette.

"You know I am outta here, right? You know we didn't sign up for this shit?" she asked.

"I know. So far he's holding it together. Or, should I say, Lyka is holding him together. But…"

"But it won't last. You know what's in a few days? Full moon. You know what he'll realise on the full moon?"

Waldorf nodded. Of course he knew. Full moon would decide it all. When the true power rush would strike. Not only had Deucalion killed one of his own Beta's, he also had the King of all wolves added to his body count. That, too, would hit him like a high speed train during the full moon. "With his recent kills, he'll be out of control. He is and Alpha, who killed a more powerful Alpha and then killed his own Beta. I don't even want to think about what will happen."

"Let us… let's just wait out the full moon and see what happens? Maybe everything will turn out okay and we won't have to leave."

Susan blew out smoke through her nose, watching Waldorf sceptically. Then she slowly shook her head.

"This is about the girl, isn't it?"

Waldorf sighed.

"She's just a girl, Susan. She's been through so much already, I don't think she'll be able to handle this on her own. We could take her with us."

"Her? Hank, if he freaks out, she will be the first he'll go after. She's his mate, he'll not rest unless he has her. If we take her with us, he will never stop hunting us. Never. Besides, she's a kid. She'll slow us down," Susan grumbled.

"_I_ was a kid. I was barely 18, Susan. You dragged me with you. You practically adopted me. I wouldn't be alive today if you hadn't gotten me out of there. We can't leave her. She… she's our Cupcake, you know?"

Susan sighed, shook her head.

"I hope you know what you're doing. I hope for everyone's sake that waiting will not cost our necks. I happen to like my neck. Wrinkles and all."

Waldorf smirked weakly. Then he rubbed his face.

"I need to get some sleep, been a long day… week… month… shit."

"Is it safe to let the girl stay with him? I remember Bill was… pretty on edge before he snapped and slaughtered the pack. Will she be alright alone with him?"

"I think so. I hope so. She wouldn't leave him."

"Of course she wouldn't. Stupid girl…" Susan grumbled but when he looked at her he could see how worried she was. He smiled.

"You _do_ care for her."

"So what?! Sue me!" she snapped back at him.

"Susan Hayworth, acting all tough and mean but you actually like her, don't you? She _actually_ gives you all kinds of warm, fuzzy momma-wolf feelings, doesn't she?"

"Shut up, Waldorf!" Susan barked and threw her empty beer at him, narrowly missing his head. He laughed on his way back to the warehouse. He'd sleep things over. He hadn't slept well the last nights because he had attentively listened for any sounds from next door that would resemble fighting. He had been determined to burst in and drag Lyka out by her hair if he needed, to make sure Deucalion didn't hurt her. He hadn't heard any fighting though – not even talking, _thankfully_ not even the very distracting and usually very loud sex they had had on their journey to Beacon Hills. Just, very quietly, sometimes, when she probably thought everyone was sleeping, he had heard Lyka cry, just the sobs she could not for the life of her hold back without choking on them. It had broken his rusty, cranky little heart to hear it but there was nothing he could do about it other than stay awake and make sure she would be fine. So yeah, sleep had been rare. And he wasn't sure he'd get sleep now, wondering if she'd be alright alone with him in that fancy penthouse, where _no one_ would hear her cry…

* * *

They arrived at the penthouse after a silent elevator ride. Everything in here smelled clean and fresh and like home and for a moment, she allowed herself to let that feeling sink in. It was late, she was tired, and they were 'home' after all this time. Lyka kicked off her shoes, her feet hurt a little, but really, she hurt all over, so it didn't make much of a difference. She headed straight for the bedroom and let herself fall into the fresh sheets, stayed there for a long time, listening to the rain against the window, her eyes closed. She heard Deucalion take off his jacket and shoes. When she felt the weight of the bed shift she opened her eyes. He was sitting next to her and slowly reached over until his fingertips brushed her cheek, her hair.

"Did you sleep at all those past few nights?" he suddenly asked, his voice impossibly soft. She didn't respond and that was all the answer he needed. "It's my fault, isn't it? You're scared…"

"I'm not… that's not… I…"

He leaned closer, gently brushed his lips over her temple. Then he got up and headed for the door. She sat up. "Where are you going?"

She was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open but this she could ask. He half turned towards her.

"I'll sleep on the couch. I… hope that will make it easier for you to rest."

"No, don't, come back," she whispered, her voice shaken. She held out her hands, reaching for him although he would not see it. He hesitated but then he returned, sat down again and she wrapped her arms around him, placed her head on his shoulder. "Yes, I am scared, I admit that. I am terrified. But… I need you, just as much as you need me. If we want to make it through this, we'll have to stay together."

Despite all that had happened, this was the one thing she was certain of.

"Are you sure?" he asked. She nodded without hesitation.

"I love you," she whispered. He turned towards her, met her lips with his, gentle, so careful, as if he was worried to bruise her more, like she was made of glass. After a moment they parted, just enough for her to take off his sunglasses, fold them and place them on the nightstand without turning her face away from him once. Then she pulled him into a deep kiss, pulled him towards her as she lay back down. He supported himself to not crush her while their lips were locked together. It was unfathomable to him why she still wanted him, why she _still_ loved him, still wanted to lie next to him, still wanted his lips on hers, still wanted his touch despite the pain.

Suddenly, he pulled away from her, ran his fingertips over her lips.

"Let's go out tomorrow?"

"Out?" she asked irritated.

"Yes. Dinner. Maybe the Opera, if you would like that. No, forget that, Opera is not… I'm too old, aren't I? Tonight we'll rest, tomorrow… I'd like to take you out somewhere. After all you have been through because of me, that's the least you deserve."

She smiled, caressed his cheeks.

"I'd like that," she confirmed with a nod. He smiled. The first time since the Nemeton that she saw an actual smile on his face and it instantly made him look so much softer. There he was! The man she had fallen in love with. It didn't matter what Waldorf or Santiago said, he was still there, he was still Deucalion. She stretched to press her lips to hiss quickly. "I'd like that very much. Opera is perfect, I love Opera."

"Then I'll make it happen," he declared and abruptly jumped up from the bed.

"Where are you going?" she asked irritated once again.

"Checking the Opera program. Making a dinner reservation. Preparing you a bath."

"Oh a bath… Bath is good…" she sighed, falling back onto the mattress. She heard him chuckle and it made her smile. It would work out! _They_ would work this out! The others didn't know him the way she did. As long as they had each other, things would be fine.

She heard him fumble in the bathroom, then heard him on the phone, making reservations, buying tickets. He asked her quick questions, like if she had ever seen _Nabucco_, if she wanted Italian to go with the Italian Opera, if she'd let him buy her flowers, and for that evening, they were perfect. As perfect as they could be. The kind of perfection she would remember for the rest of her life, the kind of perfection that would help her carry on through it all.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_Woohooo Waldorf has a name! Or, a given name – Hank! I think Susan is probably the only one who knows. I liked diving into their relationship a bit, because I think I neglected them. So, have some pack-feels! And yeay, Liv is back, too! Missed her lots! Had to really go out of my way to stop her from going after Deucalion in this one but yeah, I am happy to write her again :) She is da best!_

_Also Holy shit,_ Braeden_ has her own tag! Talia still hasn't got her own tag but Braeden has, yeah! So I'm gonna tag the hell out of her! Because since of this chapter, Braeden is officially Lyka's middle name (yeay for continuity!)._

_This chapter was sooo freakin nice and easy to write that I decided to give them a little bit more happiness instead of just this one chapter I had originally planned. So yeah, at least one more chapter with purely enjoyable fluffyness. Thank God!_

_And, you know, comment or message me, I love the support (yes, you are actually my support group so I can get through the drama bits) and it makes it all easier for us to get through what is to come._


	22. Quiescence

**Quiescence**

Well, it wasn't the next day as Deucalion had hoped, but on the third day after their return, they finally got a table for dinner reserved in a fantastic Italian place for after the performance in the Opera House.

In the morning, Liv picked Lyka up for shopping (_'Holy shit, this is where he lives? I see why you want to stay there and not in our stinky dorm!'_). After a good breakfast she kissed Deucalion and left with her best friend. She could tell he was struggling with, that but he let her go because he knew he had to. He had to get a hold of his impulse to keep her away from anyone and anything. She was _not_ his possession, he had to remind himself of that every day.

She had informed Liv that they were going to the Opera in the evening and she had to look the part. To which, of course, her friend had responded with _'Why? Not like he can see you…'_ but Lyka had declared that it didn't matter, she wanted to look gorgeous. She wanted to look so gorgeous that people would stop and turn to look at them. Liv had sighed but ultimately she had agreed. So they went dress shopping. There was one or the other snide remark her best friend made about how certain dresses would reveal her bruises but in truth, the bruises were hardly visible anymore. It was almost like Lyka _allowed_ them to heal now. As if before something in her had protested, had kept them from disappearing. Maybe it was because now, she was happy. She was actually impossibly happy. It was the first real, proper _'date'_ they were going on and she knew it would be perfect.

And then she found _the_ dress. Cream coloured silk – contrasting her dark skin – with large, pastel coloured roses, strapless, showcasing her shoulders, hugging her shape perfectly, the wide skirt reaching to the floor, a short trail she'd have to hold up a little. The dress not only looked good, it also _felt_ good, which was an important criterion if your boyfriend was blind. No unnecessary ruffles or kitschy details, it was a plain dress, simple, elegant, timeless. Beautiful, but not distracting. And it was _the_ dress, she knew it immediately. Liv stared at her perplexed for a moment.

"You don't like it?!" Lyka asked disappointed.

"No, yes, I do, I… it's perfect. Just… It's a bit… wedding-dressy…"

"Well, but like you so wisely pointed out: It's not like he'll _see_ that," Lyka replied with a wide grin. She turned in front of the mirrors twice. Yeah, she was in love. She normally wasn't that girly, she didn't care much for dresses. But this one? This one was _it_. She reached for the price tag and sighed. "Yeah, never mind."

"What? What? How much is- _oh gosh_…"

"Yeah, a girl can dream." Lyka declared and was already halfway down the zipper. Liv saw the disappointment on her best friends face and felt her resolve crumble. She sighed.

"Stuff it. Daddy's gold will do," she declared and pulled the golden credit card her daddy had given her 'for emergencies' from her purse. Lyka gasped.

"I can't let you do that!" she hissed.

"Yes, yes you can. Consider it an early Birthday present."

"My birthday is _in_ _May_, Liv," Lyka commented, shaking her head.

"Fine, a _very_ early Birthday present."

"Liv-"

"I'm not listening, _laaaaaalalalalalalalalaaaaa_!"

Liv had her fingers in her ears as she strolled to the register to pay her best friends dress. Lyka stayed behind, shaking her head in disbelief. Sometimes she could not even put in words how much she loved Olivia Anders.

With the lovely dress, matching jewellery, lingerie, shoes and a purse, they stopped for ice cream. It was by now actually, too cold for ice cream but they didn't care. They had missed it this years, mostly because of the whole werewolf thing. So they bought their ice cream and took to their usual favourite spot where they sat together and quietly enjoyed the view.

* * *

It was early in the afternoon when she returned to the penthouse. Deucalion was waiting, and when he heard her return, he was eternally relieved. She had been gone no longer than four hours, but he had at least twice been positively certain that she'd _never_ return. It took all his self-control to stay on the couch when she walked in, instead of storming towards her. He smiled, she could tell it was an exhausted smile.

"You're back. You were successful, I take it?"

"Very much so," Lyka declared cheerfully when she walked closer, leaned over the couch to kiss him. When she pulled away, he caught her with one hand in her neck, pulled her closer again into a deeper kiss that sent a pleasant fire all the way from her lips to her tiptoes. He felt her smile against his lips, the best feeling in the world. "I'll change."

He nodded, brushed his thumb over her cheek. He could feel that the little cut in her skin had disappeared, the last proof of his unforgivable lack of control, of his madness, was gone, and he was relieved about that. Maybe it meant they could heal what had been broken.

"Statler will pick us up at half past five to take us to the Opera."

First Opera, then dinner, it would be a wonderful evening, he just knew it!

"Perfect!" she called out from the bathroom before she took a shower, then to the bedroom where he heard her change. He got up himself and joined her in the bedroom, picking a good shirt to go with his elegant suit. She was in her underwear, had just taken the dress out of its bag but not put it on yet. She had bought lingerie specifically for tonight. Again under Liv's snide remark that he would not actually see it, but it didn't matter to Lyka. She would feel damn gorgeous tonight from her underwear to her jewellery – and nothing would change that. Hell, she had even bought stockings and suspenders and felt like a true diva right about now! Lingerie did add a certain glamour to everything.

She saw him struggle with his tie and a moment later he felt her hands join his own, to tie it for him. She didn't speak, just tied the knot with her soft fingers and when she was done he caught her hands, brought them to his lips. She smelled good and her skin was warm, soft.

"I wish I could see the dress you bought," he admitted. She chuckled and he raised a brow confused. She leaned closer, her lips brushing against his, and her body…

"I am _not_ wearing a dress right now," she whispered. He growled.

"Lyka… you're making it very, _very_ difficult to control myself…" he hissed. It was difficult enough, he was longing for her, _aching_ for her, but had not dared touch her since he had lost control with her. Not since the day Marco died, since he had been so rough and inconsiderate, he felt unworthy to touch her. So he hadn't. Too scared to hurt her again. He felt her hands roam over his chest, felt her through the shirt and it stirred up something inside him, made it difficult to breathe, to think even. She leaned closer, he felt her breasts against him. Carefully he ran his hands up her sides, felt her soft, warm skin, came across a bra he didn't know. Had she bought lingerie? He felt her lips on his jaw, felt her smile, then she stepped away.

"Then I'll better get dressed. Wouldn't want to make things any _harder_ for you," she said, her voice one pure tease and before she could escape him, he had caught her hand, pulled her closer so abruptly she gasped. With her back against the wardrobe door, he kissed her passionately, she dishevelled his hair with her eager hands. With what seemed to be all the strength he had, he pulled away, had to catch his breath.

"Get dressed, you beautiful minx."

She chuckled when she hurried away to slip on her dress. By the time Statler rang for them, she was satisfied with who looked back at her from the mirror, found herself smiling like she had almost thought she never would again. Deucalion waited in the living room and he looked so handsome it made her startle a little when she saw him. The suit was perfectly fitted for him, his hair brushed back – still ever so slightly messed up – he looked absolutely regal. He heard the dress sway with her steps and offered his arm. He felt her hand gently placed in the crook and leaned closer, kissed her hair quickly. "Did I mention that you smell lovely today?"

"No, please, tell me."

He laughed, took her hand and kissed it.

"You smell lovely, you sound lovely, you feel lovely," he said, placing three kisses on the back of her hand before he leaned to kiss her lips. "And taste very lovely as well."

She chuckled, then returned his kiss before they left together, meeting Statler downstairs. She could see her best friend in the pack grin widely, clutching a hand over his heart.

"Lyka, you look gorgeous. Duke, you have no idea what you're missing."

"I have a pretty good idea, thank you, Statler," Deucalion sighed. He helped Lyka into the backseat – she cursed below her breath that she had picked a dress with so much skirt to coordinate – then got in next to her.

"So, um, I am not sure if I mentioned this to you guys yet… but I am really happy you're together and you are the sweetest couple."

Lyka smiled. Relieved that Waldorf obviously had not told the pack about the difficulties they had had on the road.

"Yes, we are. We are _adorable_," she confirmed. Statler laughed and started driving. It was a lovely evening, the slight drizzle had passed for the moment and the lights of the city were just awakening. She looked from the cityscape to their intertwined hands and then at Deucalion's profile. Then she did scoot a little closer, leaning her head on his shoulder. She didn't see his lips curl up into a smile, only felt him turn towards her so he could kiss her hair.

* * *

They reached the Boston Opera House where guests were already gathering. Lyka was among the youngest, she noticed of course. There was chat about the Opera House, about the piece itself, how the role of Abigaille was supposedly cursed for being so difficult that many young soprano's had wrecked their voices trying to master it, thereby ending their careers prematurely. And there were indeed whispers about_ 'the blind man and his young escort'_. They both listened in carefully and were utterly amused by it – and no matter how hard the other people tried to whisper, the two wolves heard everything. Literally everything. Lyka enjoyed it tremendously to turn directly towards the especially nasty gossips and give them her widest smile.

Eventually the hall opened its doors and the guests went to take their seats, it turned out the two of them had the best seats in the entire Opera House. Lyka gasped at the view of the magnificent hall.

"Deucalion, this must have cost a fortune!" she hissed upset when they took their seats, in the dress circle, front and centre where the acoustics were best and where Lyka would be able to see the entire stage perfectly. He just smiled.

"Worth the view, believe me," he assured her. Not much later, the curtains opened to the overture and silence filled the audience. The Opera was beautiful. Lyka had never seen _Nabucco_ herself, only read about it and had heard the obvious, most popular piece – _Va, pensiero_ or 'The Chorus of the Hebrew Slaves'. They were about halfway through the Opera when said piece began and oh, she tried. She tried her mightiest but he could feel her quiet sobs and intuitively wrapped his arm around her. She lasted roughly three minutes into the piece before tears were rolling down her cheeks and she quietly cursed below her breath. He smiled, pressed his lips to her cheek, caught a falling tear. He was not surprised. This chorus, when heard for the first time in an actual Opera House, sung by _actual_ people and not heard from a recording, got to everyone. There were tissues pulled and tears wiped away quietly all over the hall, Lyka did the same. And while it made him tremendously uneasy to just sit by when she cried, he knew this was a different kind of crying, so he let her, quietly comforted her and through the rest of the Opera, he kept his arm around her shoulders.

By the time they left the Opera, it was dark and the city alight. Statler picked them up, already waiting for them outside the Opera House, and took them to the Restaurant where Deucalion had made the reservation. The Sorellina was perhaps the finest place Lyka had ever been to and she was eternally grateful for her choice of wardrobe, because she would have felt hopelessly underdressed in anything else she owned. They had a private little table, somewhat apart from the busy part of the restaurant, ordered wine (no questions asked, Deucalion made sure of that) and had a marvellous five course dinner served to them by the chef himself. She didn't even want to know what Deucalion had invested in this evening on such short notice so she decided to _not_ think about it. Instead she just enjoyed the evening, the delicious dinner, his company, allowed herself to forget _all_ about the unpleasant events of the recent past.

"I was born in Boston, you know," Deucalion eventually stated. She looked up surprised.

"I didn't know."

He nodded.

"Yes, born here… but we moved to California when I was only two years old, so I hardly remember it. We moved because my… because my mother was considered most suitable to take over the Argent family legacy. But both my parents were registered in Massachusetts, not California. And so was I. That's why, when I was old enough, I moved back here, thought to reconnect with my 'roots'. I studied music. When I was nineteen… I met Ross Carter, we became friends, he figured out what I was and he supported me, pushed me to become the best version of me. Kind of like you," Deucalion told her. Lyka smiled a little but let him continue. "Through his support… I grew into a proper Alpha. Turning him into a wolf was what manifested my position as such and what started this pack. When Waldorf and Susan learned that a new pack was forming, they found me here and asked to join us, so they did. And from then… we just kept growing into the largest pack on this coast. I always chose my Beta's for their connection to the moon. Some people are just more alert to it than others and it increases chances of a successful transformation."

"Yes, I remember you explained that to me," she confirmed with a nod. He smiled.

"Carter always said I shouldn't be alone…"

"And he was right!"

He laughed, took her hand from across the table to kiss it.

"He was like a brother to me. I wish you could have met him. He would have loved you."

There was pain in his voice. She considered what it had to feel like. Carter had been his first Beta, his best friend. To have him killed by hunters… really, it was a miracle he had held it together and had moved on as well as he had. She wondered… had he handled it so well… because of her? He had said Carter had made him the best version of himself, like she did. She knew how much such words meant. She thought if roles were reversed and she lost Liv… to have someone take Liv's place in her heart would mean more than any words could ever describe. Liv was family, after all. So when she was like Carter to him, like his best friend, his brother, his first Beta… she could put in context how meaningful that was.

His lips wandered to her wrist, he knew exactly where her tattoo was, that small symbol that would always remind her, him, _everyone_, that she was his.

It was already late when they finished their dinner, the restaurant almost empty. They had really taken all the time they wanted and eventually called Statler to take them back. By the time the car arrived they were out on the streets in a slight drizzle, under an umbrella. Time and again, the moon was blinking through the clouds, almost full, just a thin slice missing on the edge, Lyka could feel that. The light energizing her, making her feel good in her own skin and as it was the first full moon after the terrible events in Beacon Hills, it felt even better than usual. For the first time since then, she felt... in control.

Deucalion, however, didn't. The moon was getting to him tonight, he felt disoriented, irritated, felt like he wanted to claw his own skin off. He tried not to show it, but when she suddenly touched his hand he realised he had been clutching her arm so tight it probably had to hurt and she saw his hand was clenched into a fist so hard that the knuckles had turned an unhealthy white.

"Is everything alright?" she asked worried. He smiled a weak smile that would not even nearly convince her of _whatever_ he would say after it.

"Yes, I'm fine... just a bit moonstruck."

She frowned worried but when the car stopped and Statler greeted them, she couldn't continue the conversation, not comfortably so.

* * *

They were quiet in the car, reached their building eventually and as Statler drove off, they were already in the lobby. The night watch greeted them with a yawn.

Once in the penthouse, they didn't even switch on the lights in the living room. Lyka slipped off her pumps and helped Deucalion undo his tie. Her gaze got caught up by his lips before she went to her tiptoes and placed a kiss on these very lips of his. And by the tie still around his neck, she pulled him with her into the bedroom. When her heels hit the bed, she was already busy unbuttoning his shirt, her lips breathing tender kisses on his neck while she took his shirt off. She kissed the small moles on his neck and collarbone, felt him shiver under the touch. He placed his hands on her arms, intentionally with as little pressure as possible, and pushed her away just a little.

"Lyka, I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't. I know you won't," she whispered, her breath hot on his lips. The moment the words had been spoken, he sealed her lips with his, a swift, deep kiss. Her hands were in his hair, his arms were wrapped around her, searching for the blasted zipper of the dress she was wearing. Until eventually he pulled away.

"Dammit! It's one of those trick dresses, isn't it?!"

She chuckled and directed his hands to her side where he could open the one button and zipper of the silk dress. With a rustling sound, it dropped, gathering around her feet and a moment later, they fell onto their bed together. She sighed relieved, eyes fluttering close when his lips were wandering over her skin. She had missed this. Had missed his touch, the pleasant sensation. It had been way too long. She had been too scared, he too out of control, but tonight she felt safe, tonight it felt right.

She arched towards him when he kissed her navel and his hands were exploring the lingerie she had kept so well hidden. The strapless bra made of fine, black lace, matching panties and of course the scandalous stockings. She could feel his smile on her skin and it made her chuckle a little. He felt the sound more than really hearing it. He kissed her thigh when he opened the first clip of the suspenders, gently slid the stocking off her leg, then kissed the instep of her foot before he turned his attention to her other leg, repeating the procedure. This time though he kissed his way up again, and before she knew, he was between her legs, his lips following the lace of the smalls, it made her giggle uncontrollably, ending in a moan when his lips met her sex through the lace.

_"Oh_ I don't ever want you to stop..." she whispered. He looked up, a moment later was face to face with her, caressing her hair, gently pressed his lips to her.

"Never."

She deepened the kiss while he undid his trousers with one hand. He needed her, so much more than he had ever thought possible. He was inside her moments later, she moaned between kisses. Their fingers were intertwined, he was holding her hands above her head, leaning on his elbows to support himself, but close enough to still kiss her. When she wrapped her legs around him, pulled herself closer – and him deeper into her – He was on his knees, making her arch her back, their bodies melting together, slowly, deeply. And everything was right.

Sometime later that night Lyka was asleep in his arms. The little spoon, her back close against his chest, his arm wrapped around her, holding her hand, his lips and warm breath on her neck. But Deucalion was awake. He was staring out the window, the moonlight, shimmering through gaps in the shutters, was so intense he was almost convinced he saw it. And he felt it. Had never felt anything like it. The moon wasn't even full yet, but there was so much... power! Really, right now there was nothing he _couldn't_ do. He felt like there was twice as much power in him than there had ever been before and it was in his mind and his body. He would never lose control again, how could he, with so much _power?_

He kissed her earlobe before he climbed out of bed and walked to the large window, opened the shutters, felt the moonlight on his naked skin. When he opened his eyes, glowing red, he saw it. Saw the city below him, an ocean of lights, moving and radiant, and the gigantic sphere of pure light in the sky, so bright that it was almost blinding. He let the light flow through him.

She watched him. She had woken when she felt him leave the bed and watched as he just stood there, taking in the light of the moon.

Everything was right, wasn't it?

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_I just love Liv so freakin' much! I really want to integrate her in every chapter from now on – even if that makes no sense whatsoever, everything is better with a little Liv!_

_A late update (for me at least, it's half past midnight here...) because I was on the phone with my BFF for three hours today so writing was delayed... but have the fluff. Everyone deserves a bit of fluff. _

_But sad as it is, this is the end of the fluff, people. Grab your tissues, prepare, because the next chapters WILL BE PAINFUL! _

_Review or message me ^^_


	23. Blood Moon

**Warning... for violence... and stuff**

* * *

**Blood Moon**

Nothing was the same.

Talia stood in the living room, staring out onto the yard. A thick layer of fallen leafs covered the area, the forest looked haunted, dark branches creaking in the wind, the sky a hard, unforgiving gray.

There had been another killing this week. One from the pack – not a family member though – had gotten too reckless, ran into Gerard Argent. That was the end of the story. The man didn't ask questions. He killed. Didn't care if it was a 17-year-old girl he put to the sword. They had found the girl with a message written in her blood, a spiral – mocking their very culture. Talia was disgusted by how quickly things had escalated.

She couldn't let her own children out of sight anymore. To school and straight home, no dallying about in town. Their friends asked questions of course, but they couldn't give a proper answer. Family issues. Derek was most furious about it. He missed his friends, missed basketball, didn't understand what it was all about. Laura was more understanding because she knew, because she had been there when it had all happened. She did her best to help Talia but there were so many tempers that wanted to be soothed. Front and centre: her little brother Peter. He, like Richard had been, was convinced it was all Deucalion's fault, all his failure, that none of this would have happened if he hadn't pushed them towards this 'silly negotiation'. And indirectly, he criticised Talia. He never said it out loud, but he didn't have to. She knew, everyone else knew and they gave her that look. Said she was emotionally compromised because she and Deucalion were close, said her judgment was clouded. They had demanded she exact revenge on the Boston pack, instead she had sent them away, out of harm's way for the moment because she knew there was nothing else she could do. The order had barely left her lips when Deaton informed her that one of Deucalion's Betas had been killed in his clinic. By Deucalion himself. When she came in later, they were already gone, the body in the morgue was Marco, she recognised.

It was not until almost a week later that she dared pick up the phone and call Deucalion. She hoped things had calmed down, hoped he was fine. That day in the clinic, she knew, he had not been himself. He had just lost his mother and Richard, who had been like a father. And for the better part of that day, it had been well in the realm of the possible that Lyka would die on Deaton's table. There had been no point in appealing to Deucalion's reason then. She hoped now things would be different. She hoped Lyka was fine, the pack over the fact that they had lost one of their own in such a terrible way, and she hoped Deucalion was himself again.

When she dialled, she wondered for a brief moment what time it was where he was. Had the full moon already risen in Boston? How would his recent kills affect him during this moon? She was admittedly nervous when she waited for him to answer the phone. She waited long, imagined him sitting in his living room, listening for the sound, contemplating whether or not to answer. But after an unbearable wait, someone picked up.

"Yes," came his answer from the other end of the line. His voice like always, strong, deep, familiar.

"It's me."

A long pause followed.

"Calling to warn me of an imminent attack?" he asked. He sounded bitter, hurt. It stung in her heart. She missed him. After all, he was like a brother to her and right now she would prefer him over Peter. Peter, who was so intent on making everyone believe she was unfit to be the Alpha. Somehow she should have seen that coming. That eventually her little brother would try to take it from her, entangling the family and the pack with his silver tongue, turning them against her. Only a matter of time.

"No. You know I would not let that happen," she insisted. Again a long pause from him.

"What do you want, Talia?" he asked, his voice cold, indifferent.

"I wanted to hear how you were, if everything was alright. Deaton told me about Marco… I just wanted to hear how you were doing."

"How we're doing without the alliance you mean."

"You are still part of the alliance, Deucalion."

"You sent us away. I honestly don't know whose betrayal hit me harder. Marco's or yours."

She had to take a moment to not get upset. His words hurt but she had expected as much.

"I didn't betray you, Deucalion. You should know me better than that. After all these years. You have no idea what it was like on that day. You were so preoccupied with worrying for Lyka, you didn't see them. My pack was all but chasing you out with pitchforks and torches. I _had_ to send you away, it was the only way to calm things. The Argent's are practicing bloody vengeance. Three of my Beta's have been killed only last week, seven wolves from other alliance packs were found dead. I didn't _want_ to send you away. But it was the only thing I _could_ do."

He didn't respond for a long time and she almost thought he had hung up on her.

"It doesn't matter anymore. I don't need your protection , I don't need your alliance. I can protect my pack without you."

"I never questioned that."

"If your family wants revenge, let them come, it won't end well for them," he growled. She was frowning.

"We don't want revenge, Deucalion. We're busy enough fighting the hunters and what happened at the Nemeton wasn't your fault. What's the point in us fighting, among packs? We wanted peace, we are not about to start a war amongst ourselves."

"Peace…"

There was a weak laugh from his end of the line. "There can be no peace. Your father was right about that much. I was a fool to have ever believed it was possible."

She gasped.

"No! Deucalion, no, your vision is all we have now, you can't give that up. Your vis-"

Yet before she could finish her words, there was a horrible noise at the other end of the line, making her pull away upset. She wasn't sure what had just happened but for some reason, she had to sit down. Things were falling apart, she could feel it. Oh why, why did her father have to do something so selfish, so foolish? He had ruined everything and now he wasn't there to help her fix it anymore. Really, what was there to fix? Their life's work had shattered into millions of pieces, she was staring at the ruins of her life with no solution, no way of saving it. Everything was falling apart.

* * *

He had not even heard the rest of her words because he had crushed the phone in his hand and when he realised it, he had thrown it away with an angry roar. He saw it shatter into tiny pieces on the stone floor. He was impossibly angry. He saw his own claws, felt his heart pump a rush of blood through him, noise in his ears. The light of the full moon was breaking through every crack in the warehouse walls, through the windows, the doors, and it was whispering. Whispering of power and deceit and anger and treason and death. And he was inclined to listen. He saw movement in the corner of his eyes and flew around, growling, teeth bared at the intruders.

"Wowowowowo!" Paul declared, arms raised in defence. Deucalion recognised his voice, barely, and his eyes turned back to their usual, silvered blue. Paul, with Abby behind him, looked around the otherwise empty warehouse.

"Where is everyone?" the girl asked irritated.

"On their way."

"Huh… weird… could have sworn that was Waldorf we passed earlier, going the opposite way…", Paul noted.

Deucalion's face twitched, the red simmering underneath the blue of his eyes. Waldorf, going the other way? Away from the warehouse? Why would he do that? What was he –

Ohhh. Oh the old wolf. He should have seen _that_ coming. It had just been a matter of time, right? Why was he even surprised? Waldorf wasn't one of his own. He had come to him as an Omega, why had he foolishly assumed loyalty from one like him. Probably he was taking Susan with him right now. Omega's shouldn't be trusted. He could only trust his own. And not even those anymore, like Marco had undeniably proven. Really, there was no one he could trust. Only Lyka. He could trust Lyka. But other than her? Pah! He didn't need any of them! What did he care if Waldorf ran away?

Still, the anger was simmering. Betrayal hurt. And it wasn't fair. He had done nothing to them to deserve it, being betrayed by everyone. By Talia, by Marco, now Waldorf? He had tried not to see it but betrayal _was_ everywhere.

"Forget about Waldorf. He's a traitor," he growled.

"What? Waldorf?" Abigail asked with disbelief.

"He'd _never_ betray the pack," Paul insisted.

"He was Omega. He and Susan can't be trusted."

"_I_ was Omega. Are you saying I can't be trusted either?" Paul noted perplexed. Deucalion's gaze shot up to him, eyes flashing red and he was so focused, it made Paul step back irritated. It was as if the Alpha… could see them.

"I don't know, can you, Paul? Or would you also abandon me if a better opportunity came along. Would you also try to kill me, like Marco did?" Deucalion asked, his voice a low growl.

"Duke, you're scaring me," Abigail declared, worry in her voice. Deucalion's head snapped towards her.

"And you?! What will it take for you to turn on me, hm? If your lover says so, you'd leave as well, wouldn't you? You're _all_ traitors, each and every one of you!"

"Okay buddy, we're going home, you take your time and cool off. No one's betraying you. When you're thinking straight again, call us," Paul declared annoyed, put an arm around Abigail's waist and turned to leave.

And the next moment he coughed up blood. Abigail screamed, stumbled away. Paul feet lost touch to the ground, his body twitching, and their Alpha had his hand firmly wrapped around his spine.

"I won't be betrayed again. You're not going anywhere."

"Duke let him go! He's _not_ betraying you, _we're_ _not_ betraying you!"

Abigail screamed in panic. And their Alpha dropped the other male. Paul was whining, lunged over on the floor, blood dripping. He had trouble breathing, his arms shaking as he tried to support himself. His mate rushed to his side, helping him, watched the slow healing process. Paul growled, eyes flashing golden when he looked over at Deucalion. The Alpha was pacing angrily, blood on his hands and sleeves and where he had now rubbed his face. He was in turmoil. His eyes twitching nervously, his claws still drawn. Like a rabid animal. Paul growled.

"You're crazy. You're _completely_ nuts. Marco was right, he always said you'd lose your shit. We're out of here!" Paul declared. He got to his feet supported by Abigail. They could take barely one step towards the doors of the warehouse before there was a mighty roar. Paul was grabbed and pulled around. The Beta had his claws drawn, roared at the attacking Alpha but before he could so much as raise a clawed hand, Deucalion had grabbed him by the head and snapped his neck, turning it a full 180 degrees. Abigail's scream cracked through the night, shrill and horrified when her mate's body dropped cold on the floor before the Alpha. Deucalion was changing before her eyes, turning… into a monstrosity. And she ran. Ran for her life. Yet before she could even reach the door of the warehouse, he caught her long blonde hair. She screamed as she was yanked backwards out of the full moon light. She stumbled backwards to the floor and found herself under the massive shadow of the Alpha, in the light of red eyes. Her screams didn't last long when claws began digging in her flesh, bones being ripped from their place, blood spattering all over the warehouse…

* * *

Lyka left the dorm where she had been studying with Liv all day. Statler was waiting outside by the car to take her to the warehouse. It was the first full moon she would spend with the entire pack. The first time nothing would interfere. She was happy for it. Things were going well. Deucalion seemed calmed down, the events from Beacon Hills a thing of the past. Or so she hoped.

"Don't wait up," she had said to Liv when she left and got in the car with Statler. Her friend grinned at her happily and they had driven off. But it was about halfway to the warehouse that they received a call.

"Waldorf," Statler commented and picked up. "Dude, what's up?... U-huh… u-huh… okay yeah she's here with me… sure, see you there."

"What's wrong?"

"Apparently Waldorf wants to discuss something with us – or with you more specifically. Said to meet him by the harbour," Statler explained and at the next traffic light changed their general direction. Lyka frowned worried as they put distance between them and the warehouse. She didn't like where this was going. The last time Waldorf had wanted to talk privately, it had not been good news.

"What about Deucalion? He'll be waiting for us at the warehouse."

"Call him, tell him we'll be a bit late," Statler suggested, handed her his phone. She dialled but didn't get through. And her uneasy feeling grew, like a knot in her stomach. She tried calling him three times before they reached the harbour. Waldorf was already waiting. Susan and Liam where with him and they looked serious. Statler parked, his usual funny mood had gotten gloomier as he saw the three of them together. He suddenly shared Lyka's worried frown.

They got off the car and joined the other three.

"What is this about?" Lyka asked.

"It's the full moon," Waldorf said. Lyka looked up at the moon, shimmering between clouds occasionally.

"Yeah, obviously."

"Have you talked to Duke today? Was he… different? Anything out of the ordinary?" Susan asked grimly.

"I studied with Liv all day, I haven't seen him since this morning. Guys, what is this about?" Lyka asked, then turned towards Waldorf with a frown. "Is this about this Devil's wolf nonsense again?"

"It's not nonsense, Lyka. During a full moon, the power would set in, Deucalion would notice the change, he'd be… different. He'd be on edge, the slightest provocation could make him snap. We need to know if you noticed anything about him. You were out yesterday night, weren't you?" Susan asked.

"Yes. And it was wonderful, thank you for your concern," Lyka snapped. Waldorf shook his head.

"Cupcake, we don't mean you ill. On the contrary. If Deucalion snaps, _you_'ll be in danger. You're his mate, you're connected."

"Everything is fine!" Lyka insisted.

"Well except we couldn't reach him," Statler noted. And by God she wanted to slap him right now.

"Couldn't reach him?"

"We wanted to let him know that we'd be a bit late so he wouldn't worry. He didn't pick up his phone," Statler explained. Waldorf and Susan exchanged an alarmed look. Lyka sighed.

"I am sure it's nothing. Where's Paul and Abby, did you bother them with your panic, too?"

"No, they should be at the warehouse," Susan replied. She sounded frustrated. Probably because Lyka was so completely unfazed by their concerns.

"Where we should all be. Come on, let's get out of here," Lyka turned on her heels, grabbed Statler by the arm and led him to the car. Once inside, she sighed, fingers rubbing her brows. "God I can' wait for this full moon to pass, and this whole ordeal will just be another repressed memory…"

They drove across the entire city, she sat and watched the moon, its light strangely dull today, strangely… hostile. She felt uneasy in her own skin, couldn't wait to let loose once they were away from humans. She couldn't wait to be with Deucalion, let all this be forgotten. Everything in her refused to believe Susan and Waldorf. Not after yesterday. After this great night they had had, the wonderful evening. He wouldn't change. He would stay her mate, her Deucalion. No demonic legends could change that.

They reached the warehouse when it was already late. And the moment she opened the car door, the stench of blood hit her nose, made her flinch. Statler pulled a face.

"What the fuck?" he mumbled when he got off the car as well. Susan, Liam and Waldorf pulled up behind them, took off their helmets and looked equally worried. No one spoke. The closer they got to the entrance of the warehouse, the more intense the stench. Lyka felt her heart painfully constricted. Because somehow she knew what awaited them in there.

Waldorf pushed the door open and Statler was the first to turn away. he ran off, the heard him throw up.

The first thing they really saw was Paul, his head turned in an impossible angle on his shoulders, a huge, gaping hole in his back, lying in a puddle of his own blood. But there was more blood, so much more blood, more than could have come from him and it took them entirely too long to realise where it had come from. Because Abigail was hardly even identifiable anymore. It was the lump of golden hair stained with blood and dirt that made them realise she had been here in the first place. Her body was scattered across the hall, torn limb from limb, inside out, broken bones, patches of skin and clothes. Lyka was clenching her teeth, swallowing against the nausea. It was all too familiar. She was back in that forest, her initiation, the bloodied children that had been sent out to kill. But this was different. These were no strangers. These were friends. Paul and Abby. Beautiful, beautiful Abby and her artsy, crazy boyfriend Paul.

She couldn't breathe.

She turned away, left the warehouse, had to go far enough to breathe air, not the stench of blood, that metallic bitter scent she knew too well. Lyka lunged over, tried to gag but couldn't throw up, even though her stomach was protesting wildly.

"Oh God… oh God…" she whispered without even realising she did.

"We need to get out of here. I'm not staying in this city with him on the loose a minute longer!" Susan declared.

"Susan…"

"No, Hank! You _know_ what's happening, you know we're next! I am not waiting around for him to find me. I am leaving!" she put her helmet back on and was already halfway at her bike.

"Why isn't he here then?!" Waldorf asked loudly. She froze, turned back towards them. And her gaze got caught on Lyka. Waldorf nodded. "If he wanted us why didn't he just wait for us to show up here? No... He's not looking for us…"

"He's looking for her…" Susan finished.

There was a moment of paralysed silence before Waldorf walked closer, put a hand on Lyka's shoulder. She still had trouble breathing, hadn't even listened to them. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't. Everything had been fine, everything had been perfect. How was this even possible? Yesterday, _just_ yesterday they had smiled and laughed and flirted and kissed and touched and it had all been… _perfect._ She shook her head violently.

"He didn't. He didn't do this. He wouldn't."

"Cupcake, listen to me, I know this is terrible for you to hear but he is _not_ himself anymore. It's the power rush. He's not in control. I know you don't want to hear this… but you need to leave with us."

"No," was the immediate response. She shook her head still and he could feel her body was shaking with all the terror she tried to contain. "No, I'm not leaving him. I promised I wouldn't leave him. He is my Alpha, he is my _mate,_ I am not leaving him. He can get this under control, I know he can, I _know_ he's still himself."

Waldorf stepped before her, took both her shoulders and shook her firmly.

"Listen to me, Lyka! He is not himself now. He doesn't know us, he doesn't know you, all he sees is treason. He _will_ kill you. And then what? If he, by some miracle, does get over this, does get his own mind back, does remember who he is and who we are… can you imagine what it will do to him? When he realises he has _your_ blood on his hands? It will kill him. Do you want that? Do you want to even imagine what it would feel like for him? Is _that_ what you want? Him to lose his mind all over again when he realises he killed _the one person_ he never wanted to hurt?" he asked, his voice harsh and angry. And she broke. Tears bursting from her. Waldorf instantly turned softer, remembering that dear God she was still a child! He put his arms around her awkwardly, and patted her hair. "Shhhhh… it's terrible, I know. He wasn't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be a symbol of peace, not death… and maybe, some day, he will. I will _always_ believe that. But the only way he can ever be himself again, the only thing that will have even the slightest chance of bringing him back, is _your_ life. You _must_ stay alive. He must have _you_ to return to. Do you understand me? If he doesn't have you, there will be nothing left for him. He can't bring peace if he is eaten alive by his grief for you. Run. Run for your life and we'll find a way to bring him back, to bring _our_ Deucalion back."

They stood like this for a long time. Liam was shifting nervously, Susan eventually started her bike.

"We can't waste any more time. He will eventually track her here."

"You heard her, Lyka. We have to leave… He'll be looking for you, it's _you_ he wants. We might have a head start if we leave now…"

Lyka nodded. Waldorf sighed relieved. Thank God, she saw sense. He turned and nodded towards Susan. Liam put his helmet on as well and Statler, who stood by the car looking very pale and very shaken, got in already, started the engine. But when Waldorf looked back at Lyka he saw a strange realisation in her eyes and it worried him. "Lyka?"

"If he…. If he's looking for me…"

"He'll be tracing back your steps, eventually it will lead him back here but we might have a bit of-"

There was a sudden flash of such pure terror in her eyes that Waldorf dropped silent. She was shaking. And only one name left her lips.

"Liv."

Waldorf sighed frustrated. Dammit. Of course! Of course that would be the first place he would look for her. Her dorm room with her best friend! A rabid werewolf looking for his mate in a dorm full of students? That would be a massacre. He knew it and when he glanced over at Susan she shook her head, because she knew as well.

"Lyka, we can't…"

"Oh God, no, I can't let him hurt her. I can't! Waldorf, please!"

She was crying bitterly and he felt his resolve crumble. He wanted to get her out of here, he knew that was priority number one. But he also knew that she wouldn't leave. Not without knowing her best friend was safe. Or dead. He growled.

"Alright, here's what we'll do. We'll go to your dorm, make sure everything is alright there and then we leave. No more distractions, we'll be out. If I have reason to believe it's not safe, we'll leave and you will not question my decision, understood?!"

She nodded through her tears and he took her by the arm, led her to the car.

"Hank!" Susan warned.

"Go, get out of the city, we'll catch up with you," he insisted. She growled.

"We'll wait by the crossing of the interstate 90 and 495. If you're not there by dawn, we'll assume he killed you and we'll be gone!"

"Done!" Waldorf replied. Liam got onto his bike and he and the she-wolf drove off, disappearing in the night. Waldorf shoved Lyka into the back of the car and got in next to Statler.

"This is literally the dumbest idea we ever had," Statler declared.

"I know. Drive," was all Waldorf replied. They left the warehouse behind to drive right back into the city, and quite possibly, their premature deaths.

* * *

Liv sat in the kitchen, where she had just prepared a sandwich, chatting with house mates. Lyka had been gone about two hours. It was a strange evening. Somehow it all seemed… weird.

She watched a group of fellow students play Monopoly but didn't join them (_'No thanks, that game just never ends.'_). Instead, after a while, she took her half empty plate and a glass of juice and went upstairs again, back to her room. Maybe watch some TV or something. It was admittedly always boring when Lyka was out. She got it though, full moon and all, couldn't exactly expect her werewolf BFF to stay in. When she came down the corridor, she saw her room door was open just a crack. She could have sworn she closed it…

She entered and wasn't alone. By the window, his back towards her, stood a tall man, broad-shouldered, dark jacket and jeans. She recognised that frame and slowly closed the door behind her.

"Deucalion?" she asked sceptically. And when she touched the door knob, she felt something wet. Her eyes quickly wandered to her hand. Blood. There was blood on her door.

"Where is she?" his question came, his voice quiet and steady and terrifyingly cold.

"The scrawny guy picked her up. Statler, was his name? They were going to the warehouse to meet you."

"I can hear when you're lying, Olivia," he growled and slowly turned towards her. She gasped. Her plate and glass dropped to the floor, shattering noisily. He was covered in blood. And he was not wearing his glasses, so his strange eyes were fixed on her now, glowing red. She stepped back, was slowly reaching for the door. But really, what was she hoping to achieve? Where did she hope to run from him? She knew what he was capable of, Lyka had told her. If he wanted her dead, she was dead.

"Then maybe you should listen, because I am _not_ lying. Statler picked her up two hours ago and they went to the warehouse. That's all I know. Whose blood is that?"

"Not something you need concern yourself with," he replied calmly. She saw blood trickle down his cane, then looked back up at him and squared her shoulders.

"You're here to hurt her, aren't you?"

He met her gaze directly. He wasn't blind. The realisation hit her the very moment their eyes met.

"I'd never hurt her. But I will hurt everyone who tries to keep me from her. You can deliver that message to them. They will come here, they will know."

"I have no idea what the hell you're talking about, you sound crazy!" she declared and was on her way to her desk, her phone, to call Lyka, because this was uncomfortable – very much so. Yet she had barely moved when the wolf in her room growled and grabbed her by the throat. She gasped. He had grown to almost twice his size within seconds, seemed darker, more monstrous than before. Yes, she had wanted to see someone 'wolf-out' but this was definitely not what she had signed up for. She gasped and got a hold of her pepper spray in reflex, sprayed it straight in his face. He roared furiously, stepped back, tried to get the substance from his eyes. And she was on her way to the door. But before she could reach it, before she could even scream for help, she was hit by a brutal slap across the face, it sent her flying the other way, and she crashed into the desk. It knocked the wind out of her pipes, she was dizzy for a moment. She felt what would surely be bruises soon and blood on the side of her face. That was when it got real. That was when she knew she probably wouldn't make it out. She wiped blood from the corner of her mouth and looked up. "You know… she still believed in you. You hurt her, you terrified her… but she wouldn't leave. Told me she'd handle it when I told her to get the frack out and as far away from you as possible. I should have known you were bad news. Guys like you… too good to be true," she scoffed.

He attacked, she rolled out of the way, tried to evade but he caught her again and she was being pressed to the floor by him, felt ribs crack under his weight. And then she felt teeth sink into the back of her neck. She wanted to scream, but couldn't.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_..._

_So, yeah... _

_that happened... _

_..._


	24. Sacrifices

**No warnings, just tears... but this is about as bad as it gets, I promise!  
**

* * *

**Sacrifices**

They reached the dorm. It looked normal, not like anything happened. But Lyka knew. She knew when she saw the broken window of her room, the curtains blowing out. And she was sure she saw blood on the white fabric. Her insides clenched together. She was not sure if she could go in there. She felt herself sway and was caught by Waldorf.

"Cupcake, we don't have time. Go in or get back in the car and we're out of here."

"No… no."

She stepped away from him and walked up the steps, into the dorm. She saw familiar faces, people were smiling, whatever might have transpired in here, apparently no one had realised it yet.

She felt like a ghost, walking down the halls, up the stairs, approaching her old room. It was like she was watching someone else's life. She didn't even listen to the people talking or greeting, everything seemed muffled and dull, like she was under water. What had happened? How the hell had they gotten here, to this point, where she walked up here completely aware that her best friend might be dead.

She reached her room door and she could smell it already. The blood. She closed her eyes, didn't move for a long moment, tried to brace herself but she knew no matter how long she tried, she could never be prepared for this. Not this. Her hand was shaking when she reached for the doorknob. She saw Statler and Waldorf approach from the corner of her eye, both seemed worried but she couldn't focus on them now.

She gave the door a slight push and it slowly fell open. The room was chaotic. There was a shattered plate and glass on the floor right behind the door, juice and the rest of a sandwich. And then the first spatters of blood on the wall and floor. Liv's desk was broken in half, papers and books scattered across the floor. One curtain was torn down, the window was broken. And there, under the fallen curtain, she saw her friend.

Lyka had to turn away, shaking with sobs. Liv wasn't moving, she was covered in blood and so, so pale. She tried not to think of her as Liv. This wasn't her friend anymore, her friend was gone and Waldorf was right, they needed to-

But there was a faint heartbeat. She hardly noticed it, thought it imagination but it was there, soft, irregular, so small a sound she almost didn't listen for it but then she flew around. She stumbled to her friends side, pulled the curtain away and carefully, as gentle as she could, turned Liv around to look at her. Her friend moaned in pain. But she was alive!

"Oh God Liv, you're okay, thank God!"

She felt blood on her hand and when she inspected her friend, who was so weak and so fragile in her arms, she found a large wound on the backside of her neck. "It's going to be okay, we're going to get you to a hospital and-"

"Lyka, that's a bite-mark."

Statler's voice cut through her like a knife. Her words died away in her throat, painful, bitter. She looked up.

"But… that means she'll be turning, right? She'll be like us, she'll heal…"

"Ideally, yeah…" Statler commented and exchanged a quick look with Waldorf. He could see it on the others face. They knew. They knew that if Liv were to turn, she would have already shown signs. But neither of them could bring themselves to tell her. Lyka smiled, a laugh of relief on her lips when she brushed her best friends hair from her eyes.

"You hear that? You'll be okay. You'll be like us and everything will be-"

She met Liv's forced smile, felt a soft, shaking and so very cold hand on her cheek. She gasped. "Oh no Olivia Anders, don't you dare give me that look, don't you dare!"

Liv gasped, sat up and was coughing, her body – suddenly seeming so small and so broken – shaken terribly. Lyka was crying, couldn't control the tears streaming down her face when she held her friend as she coughed up an eerie, black substance. She turned towards Waldorf, panic in her voice. "What's happening?!"

"Lyka, it happens. Some people… aren't made for the bite, some don't want it. They can reject it…"

"No!" Lyka protested and turned back to her friend. "No you will _not_ reject this, you will fight, you will live!"

"Lyka…"

Her friend whispering her name almost tore her heart to pieces, her words died away in bitter sobs when Liv shook her head gently. "Lyka… I'm not like you… this isn't… for me… please…"

"No! Stop that, don't you dare! Don't you _dare_ ask this of me! Oh god this is all my fault, all of this! Had I never met him… had I never accepted this… we'd be fine. I am so sorry, so so sorry I let this happen to you…"

Liv smiled and sat up as well as she could to reach her best friends cheek, pressed her lips on them once.

"It's okay… it's… okay…"

Then she fell back, her body convulsing, eyes rolling back in her head as she gasped for air, black liquid gurgling up her throat.

"Lyka, rejecting the bite is a long, gruesome way to die… I can… make it quicker, if you let me…" Waldorf suddenly spoke. It felt like he was far away even though Lyka felt his hand on her shoulder so he had to stand directly behind her.

"Don't touch her!" she yelled at him. He stepped back and she turned back to her friend, who was slowly dying in her arms. She held her close, tried to suppress the violent spasms. She caressed the blond hair, whispered to her as tears ran down her cheeks but she forced a smile on her face.

"Remember how we met? Remember that summer camp? I was so homesick, I was crying every day and didn't want to see or talk to anyone. And then you came along. And I didn't talk to you, but you would sit with me and played and asked me every time if I wanted to join you. Every day. You didn't know me, you didn't know anything about me, but you were there. I'll never forget that. You hear me? I'll never forget that you were there for me when no one else was, you were there for me when I didn't even want anyone there. You were my friend when I didn't even know I needed one. I was never homesick again after that. Because you were there. You were _home_. You will always be part of me Liv, you will _always_ be my family. I love you."

She had her arms wrapped around her, held her as she was struggling and then, with one, quick, strong squeeze and a soft crack, the fragile neck was broken. Liv's body turned limb, falling still in her arms, no more heartbeat, no more gags. Her head rolled back, eyes empty. Lyka cried as she held her, kissed her temple again and again, apologising again and again. Because this was her fault. It was all her fault. It was-

A voice came down the corridor.

"Hey, Liv, do you have the notes from yesterday's lecture? I'm trying to do a rev-"

The girl appeared in the door. It took her a moment to grasp the scene before she gasped, stumbled backwards and then her scream ripped through the hall. Lyka didn't even pay any attention, she was still holding the lifeless body in her arms when Waldorf came closer.

"Cupcake, things will get nasty here soon, we should be out of here before there's police and stuff and-"

She nodded and when she looked up at him, he fell silent. Her eyes, still filled with unshed tears, were no longer their warm, bright gold. They were blue. Like the eyes of a wolf turned when an innocent life was on their hands. The kill during her initiation had not affected her, God only knew what that man had done to deserve to be there but he sure had not been innocent. But Liv had. And her death, although Deucalion had forced her hand, was on Lyka now. And those blue eyes would remind her of that for the rest of her life. "Come on, we need to get out of here. He'll keep looking for you, he'll come back here. If we're not out by then, she … she will have died for nothing."

Lyka nodded weakly, closed her eyes again, tears rolling down her cheeks. She gently put Liv down, kissed her forehead once. She looked almost peaceful now and oh Lyka hoped she was. Hoped whatever lay beyond death was better than this.

She got up and Waldorf pulled her away. He saw the young wolf was covered in blood and black fluid so when he had shoved her to Statler, he went to grab clothes from her wardrobe, just a few, so she could change, because once they were out of her, she'd want to. She'd want to get out of the clothes drenched in her best friends blood. Hell, she'd probably want to get out of her own skin if possible. He also grabbed money, as much as he could find in the wallets of both girls, then he followed the other two. He caught up with them by the car, Statler had put Lyka in the car already and moments later, they were on their way.

* * *

He was running. Free. More so than he had ever felt. The rush was incredible. He had felt bursting with energy already but since the warehouse… he began to realise that it was the killing. Their blood on his hands, it fuelled him like nothing ever had before. His senses, his strength, his entire being. He was better than before in every way. Like he had added their strength to his own. He was faster, sharper, more alert.

He had tracked her scent easily to the harbour, where he met the other's scent as well. But she was clear, distinct, impossible to miss because he knew her scent inside out. Because there was always something of himself in it. He tracked her back to the warehouse where the stench of blood was distracting and problematic to differentiate. But she had been with Susan and Liam and Waldorf, so if he'd stick with their scent, he knew he'd find her eventually.

He followed them, leaving the city. And oh it felt so free, to run through the night, not a care in the world. He had left his human shell behind and was all wolf, the power pulsing through him unlike anything he had ever felt. It overwhelmed everything else, everything that should make him feel remorse for murdering Paul and Abby and for what he had done to Olivia. Of course he knew it was murder. But the ends justified the means, he was sure of that. And if the ends was this feeling, this power… this power that would allow him to never have to feel so helpless, so vulnerable again… had he had this power before, none of this would have happened. Gerard would not have been able to blind him, Richard would not have been able to kill the Matriarch, no one would have been able to come near them. Lyka would not have been put in the position to undergo that initiation for him, he would have been able to protect her from this, the _nagual_ would be no match for this new power. The way he was now… he could end the war. By obliterating everyone and everything who got in his way. There would be peace when he was done, when every force trying to prevent it was eliminated, he would bring that long overdue peace to the supernatural world!

There was a shift in the atmosphere and he knew he had found them. Their scent… Susan and Liam. Just the two of them? Where… where was she? He felt his mind clouded by red hot anger. They had fooled him! Had sent him on a false track. Had he hunted after these two pointlessly for the past hour while she had gone the other way? No… no, he was sure she'd be here. He'd find her. He'd _always_ find her. She shouldn't even have to run from him. All he did, he did for her. He could protect her now, no one would ever hurt her, he wouldn't let it happen. This new power, it would help him keep her safe from anything. He'd be the new King of wolves and she would be his Queen, his true and only Queen. That was how it should be!

* * *

Susan had just taken off her helmet and Liam seemed nervous.

"We shouldn't just wait around," he mumbled.

"We agreed to wait for them and we will," Susan calmly replied.

"_You_ agreed to wait for them."

"No one's forcing you to stay."

The car pulled over not long after these words. Waldorf opened the door. He looked tired, exhausted really, like they had just had the longest of nights. "You made it."

"Yeah…" Waldorf replied in a weak voice. Susan looked past him, saw Statler and Lyka leave the car. She frowned.

"Is her friend safe?"

Waldorf silently shook his head, he need not say more. Susan sighed. This was all so messed up. This was not the way their pack was supposed to end. They were supposed to be better than that. They had been, once upon a time. Strongest pack in the states, fighting for peace. Now what was left of them? A tragedy, that was all they were now.

"Where do we go from here then? Where will we be safe, where can we run?" Liam asked. They exchanged silent glances until Statler looked up.

"Does it matter? Anywhere is better than here!"

"The kid's right. We'll figure it out on the road, the more unpredictable we are, the better." Susan confirmed. Waldorf nodded, forced a grin to his lips. "I never thought I'd do that again. Thought I was getting too old for crazy road trips, running from monsters."

Susan got back on her bike, took her helmet and Statler got in the car, started the engine. But a terrifying howl filling the night startled them all. Never had Waldorf been so quick to cover another than when he stood in harm's way for Lyka. And there he was. First just red eyes glowing in the darkness, then they saw a mighty figure, a huge beast. And Lyka knew that beast! It was the very creature she had seen in her nightmares, the beast she had seen kill her at the roots of the Nemeton, over and over again. It had been him all along, her worst fear a bitter reality.

"Deucalion…" she whispered, his name almost painful to hear. And she tried to not see him as a monster. She tried not to see him as the beast that had ripped Abby apart and killed Paul, the beast that made her kill her best friend, her sister. She tried to see him as her mate, as the man she would have gladly given up everything for. But that wasn't him and the thought hurt so, so much.

"Get in the car," Waldorf ordered.

"But-"

"Get in the car, now!"

She stumbled back and the moment she moved, so did the beast. He charged an attack, was mid-air when an engine howled and a bike hit the beast. Liam, who had sat on that very bike, flew across the clearing, landing at Susan's feet and she pulled him up.

"You idiot, get out of here!" she ordered, shoved him towards Waldorf. He grabbed the boy, pushed him towards the car with Lyka and Statler.

"Susan, come on!" Waldorf called. But the old she-wolf stood with her back to them, facing the beast.

"Go. Get out of here."

Her voice was empty, raw, she was growling in the depth of her chest. And Waldorf nodded. He kept pushing Lyka and Liam, shoving them into the car.

"But… but… Susan?!"

"It's alright, Puppy. I'm too old for all this running," Susan called back at her. Lyka gasped and it might be the first time that she wasn't angry at Susan, the first time that she wasn't even upset about being called a puppy. Waldorf kept pushing her.

"She made her choice, Cupcake. Let her go out on her terms."

He looked back once, saw the beast rise again, only briefly irritated by the bike. Then he was in the car, and the car was driving. Lyka, sitting next to Liam in the back, looked out through the rear window, watching Deucalion rise, towering over Susan easily and his eyes seemed to burn. And Susan was smirking.

"Well then, Duke, give it your best shot."

She bared her fangs, he growled.

"Fool. You don't know what you're up against. You've never seen anYTHING LIKE ME!" he roared, his voice a concussive sound that almost forced her to her knees. But she laughed, even though her ears were bleeding.

"Yes. As a matter of fact I have. I have seen something _exactly_ like you. You're not as special as you'd like to believe, Duke."

And she charged. Attacked him, full frontal, roaring, her claws drawn, her eyes burning blue, so bright that it was almost silver. She collided with Deucalion and the beast's claws reached right through her. Lyka gasped and turned away from the scene she saw in the distance. Knew they had lost yet another wolf.

The silence in the car was painful. No one looked at anyone. Statler was staring at the road, Lyka at her blood covered hands, Waldorf out his window, Liam out another. Until eventually, he looked up.

"What now?"

"Now we run." Waldorf replied.

"Run? Where? Have you _seen_ that thing he's become?! How could we possibly outrun that?"

They couldn't reply. Found no good answer. Liam growled to himself. And then Statler looked up.

"Talia?"

Lyka turned towards him with a frown.

"The Hale pack… will they even let us cross their territory?"

"They should. If we explain what happened, they won't send us away. Talia won't send us away." Waldorf confirmed. Statler nodded, focused on a road sign, planning his route. Waldorf turned back to face the street. "We can't stop. We can't rest. He won't stop hunting us until we're dead. This will be one hell of a road trip…"

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_Hahahahahahahaha _*hysterical laughter turns into gross sobbing*

_sometime I really hate myself! Like, you have no idea how much. God this hurt! I knew I was going to kill Liv from the start, before I wrote the first chapter I was like 'okay, Lyka will have a best friend and that best friend will have to die, Deucalion will somehow force her hand so she'll have to do it herself' – what I did NOT anticipate was how much I'd come to care for Liv and oh GOD this was painful! I don't know what my emotions are doing! I re-read this to check for spelling and I had to stop halfway because I was crying so much!  
_

_Also oh God Susan! She was another one of these character I grew to care for so, so, so much! And now she had this grand, shining moment and ARGHHHHH so many feels! Seriously, Duke, why did you have to become this?!_

_Thank you all for sticking with me through this heartbreak, you could have just as easily given up on me and found a fic that does not tear your heart out and crushes it, puts it back together and back in your chest only to stab you through the very same heart again __with a dull knife__ two chapters later. Thank you all for staying along for the emotional rollercoaster! I promise this is _the worst_ chapter, it will not get worse than this, not really. Not ever. _

_EDIT: I am moving this weekend so I will not update for a few days. Next chapter will come next week, probably Thursday. Sorry for the delay. _


	25. Omega

**Omega**

The power was incredible. But once the full moon passed, the rush ebbed away and what was left was... pain. Mostly. Realisation and agony.

He had chased them in that night, had completely tuned out the penetrating pain of the losses. But once the moon had disappeared beneath the horizon and the sun slowly rose, he had not been able to keep that up. Adrenalin was fading and the bitter truth of the events hit him.

He had stopped pursuing the other four and had returned to the Warehouse in Boston to find the massacre he had caused there. The blood, the devastation, the air of death hanging over the building. It would take a while for the police to find the bodies unless someone stumbled across it by accident and called it in. He had time. Time to come to terms with his own guilt, faced with what remained of his pack.

He stood there and stared for a long time before he fell to his knees. He felt like he was being torn apart, slowly, limb for limb. Could almost feel his flesh tear, the pain nauseating and all-consuming. He was sure he was crying out of blind eyes, the darkness harsher than it had ever been before.

What had he done? What had he become? No! No, _they_ had betrayed him, it was _their_ own fault! _They_ had turned on him, _they_ were all foul traitors! Why else would they run from him now? Waldorf and Liam and Statler, all traitors. And Lyka? No, Lyka just didn't know any better! That was it! That _had_ to be it. Waldorf was manipulating her, he was sure, the old wolf was abusing her youth and inexperience as a wolf to make her believe that he would hurt her! That was the only possible explanation! She would _never_ turn on him. Or would she? After what he had done? Did he even deserve her trust? He had ruined everything. It had all been perfect and he had ruined it because of a foolish power rush!

He had to get her back. That was the most important objective now. He had to find the traitors and get his mate back from them, everything else was meaningless now.

He left the warehouse and picked up the scent of his pack again. He would find them, even if he had to search the entire country. He would find _her_.

* * *

It was the fourth morning in a row. They had to pull over; Lyka stormed out of the car and somewhere into the bushes by the road and threw up whatever was in her stomach. Which usually wasn't much. And by now, it was out of the question for Waldorf. He knew what was going on and it was either the most wonderful news they had all year or – also quite possible – the most terrifying.

Lyka was pregnant.

And since he knew for a fact that she had not been with anyone other than Deucalion in the last month, that meant they'd have a born were-puppy on their hands probably eight months from now. The thought worried him even before he talked to her about it.

At some point during their travels, he sat down alone with her and they talked. The next day, to be absolutely certain, they stopped at a pharmacy and bought pregnancy tests (she insisted to buy five, just in case, because Liv had taught her that _'statistically, the test-retest reliability of these sticks is insufficient so you have to use like a hundred to be absolutely sure'_). She was nervous in the bathroom, sitting on the closed toilet with the stick in her hand. And she was absolutely sure she heard her best friend yell at her from outside the cabin _'Pee on the goddamn stick I need to know if I'll be a fabulous lesbian aunt!'_

And she burst into tears. It took her almost ten minutes to compose herself again before she could finally 'pee on the damn stick'. At some point, Waldorf knocked on the door.

"Cupcake, how you doing in there?"

"Fine, just a few more minutes," she replied and he could tell her voice was shaky.

"Hurry up, we don't want to stay too long."

"Yeah, I'll be out just… just a minute…"

She kept staring at the stick, waiting for the symbols to appear, to relieve her of the uncertainty. And then… two blue, crossed lines. Congratulations, you are pregnant! Tears welled up in her eyes, she tried to blink them away. A month ago, that would have actually been wonderful news. Back before Beacon Hills, she would have easily believed something like this to work out. She, a young mother. Starting a weird little family with Deucalion. But now… now there was just sheer panic. Really, what had she expected? It was not like they had been careful. Werewolves didn't suffer diseases; they didn't have to worry about getting sick with any nasty things. But they _did_ get pregnant. How was she supposed to handle that? On her own? Raising a child? How was she supposed to explain to this child why the father was absent?

An abortion? Generally something she would have considered in a situation like this. her family had always been pretty clear about that, telling her that if something like this happened, she didn't need to worry, they wouldn't cast her out and they would help her through it, whether she wanted to keep the child or not. Now? Now they had cast her out for something entirely different and she was alone, she had no family, not even a pack. But this was Deucalion's child. The child of the man he had been, before he had turned into this monster. No, she could not terminate this pregnancy.

She wiped her tears, packed up the stick and rushed out of the bathroom to get back into the car. They were on the road again moments later. Waldorf turned to look at her.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay…"

He waited, thinking she might share the news. But she didn't. She knew he wanted to know, knew the three of them would support her in any way they could, whatever she decided. But she couldn't tell them just yet, she needed to figure this out for herself, for now. In time she'd let them know. But it wasn't time yet.

* * *

They were about halfway through Nebraska, resting in a tiny town, when he caught up with them for the first time. They were staying in a motel that night, which was something they only rarely did. Mostly they slept in the car. But tonight, Waldorf had insisted, mostly because Lyka wasn't doing too well. Neither was Statler.

Waldorf knew what it was. Their status was changing. He was used to it, the slight shift in the feeling one had when they became Omega. So it was official. They were no longer a pack, they were rogues, on the run, bound by no one. It always sounded nice on paper, being Omega, being independent, not having to answer to an Alpha. Like a good old-fashioned road movie. But fact was, it was a terrible feeling. He knew it, he had been through this before, and Liam was doing rather well. But Statler and especially Lyka had been very attached to the pack and to their Alpha. Losing that feeling, that connection, that sense of belonging, was physically painful for them. And in Lyka's condition, that was the last thing she needed. She had not said it yet – he assumed admitting it wasn't easy, because that usually made it 'Real' – but she didn't need to. He knew there was an Alpha child growing in her and he could only half imagine how heavy that burden must weigh on her, with what had happened. They had not slept well the last few nights so tonight, they stayed at a motel, sleeping in real beds for a change. Waldorf didn't sleep much himself, he was up, listening for any changes in the air. He heard Lyka toss and turn, plagued by nightmares. She had kept them away well enough up until a few nights back but he knew sooner or later she'd have to go through this.

Nightmares of the red-eyed beast hunting them. Nightmares of all the blood that had been spilled, all the friends that had been lost. Of the future that had been lost. What a great future it could have been. She cried herself to sleep thinking of that, of what could have been. What it would have been like. Maybe, if she had realised her pregnancy sooner, it could have all been prevented. Maybe Deucalion wouldn't have done these terrible, terrible things if he had just known he was going to be a father, if there was a new life in the plan for them. Maybe, maybe, maybe...

In her sleep, she imagined the beauty of what could have been. Having seen Deucalion with little Cora Hale, she just knew he would have been a wonderful father. If they would have a daughter, he would be the most protective father, the poor person who would try to ask the young lady out one day, having the door opened by a man as intimidating as Deucalion... And if they had a boy, oh he would have so much fun with a little boy! A little boy who would wake them up in the morning because he wanted to play with his father. It was a perfect little world she dreamed up for herself, a world with a home and friends and a family, waking up next to the man she loved every morning.

But when she woke this time, she was alone. She sat up, brushed her hair back. Next door she heard Waldorf snore impossibly loud when she walked to the bathroom and poured a glass of water from the tab. She was tired, exhausted, hungry. Oh God pizza would be brilliant now. Pizza with lots of meat. Weren't there some menu's on the table, 24/7 delivery? She took her phone on the way, studied the menu's, listened for the rain drumming against the window.

When she thought she saw something in the corner of her eye, she looked up. Outside, it was almost perfectly dark. One lonely lantern cast a light onto the yard of the motel, that was it. There weren't many people around. Just two other cars parked outside and she hadn't talked to any of them. She hadn't talked to anyone other than the three wolves she was travelling with, and even with them, conversation had been rare in the past days.

There, again, something was moving outside. She felt uneasy all of a sudden. She knew that feeling, remembered it well from... oh from so long ago. The first full moon after meeting Deucalion. Back in the dorm. Intuitively, the hairs on her arms stood up. She put down the phone without having ordered anything, took her jacket and left the room. It was a cold night, she pulled her clothes closer around her against the chill when she walked over to Waldorf's room next door. She had an eye on the yard, trying to spot anyone nearby. She tried to pick up any scent, but the rain was washing everything away, making it impossible to distinguish even the familiar scent of the other wolves.

She knocked and the snoring immediately stopped. She heard Waldorf jump out of bed and then approach the door. He opened, looked surprisingly awake.

"Hey cupcake. You okay? Can't sleep?" he asked softly. She slowly shook her head.

"I feel like... I don't know... I thought someone was watching us but I guess I'm just tired, paranoid."

Waldorf nodded but he was worried. Her put a hand on her back and led her into the room where Liam was sitting on the floor and Statler had just opened a beer. Apparently she wasn't the only one who had trouble sleeping. Waldorf stayed outside for a moment, brows pulled down into a deep frown before he turned towards the others.

"We should pack it up and leave," he suggested.

"What? We hardly slept," Statler protested.

"I know, I'm sorry. But the fact that all four of us feel watched and couldn't sleep worries me. We should move, just to be on the safe side, you know."

Liam, wordlessly, rose to his feet and nodded. Statler sighed.

"Aw man... I hope this is not going to be our life from now on..." he mumbled, took a sip of his beer before leaving it on the table when he took his coat as well. They did not have any luggage anyways, all they had with them were a few bags of random things and most of it was in the car. Waldorf had an arm on Lyka's shoulder, led her downstairs onto the yard where he left her with Liam and Statler, while he returned the keys at the reception.

She yawned, Liam gently leaned against her shoulder.

"Hey. It'll be fine. Once we're with the Hale's, things will get better."

"If they help us..."

She still had reservations about it. She still wasn't convinced Talia would hear them out, would offer them help. Waldorf was convinced and she wanted to believe it. She wanted to believe that they were not completely alone, that there could perhaps be a place they could belong. But really, she wasn't convinced. She-

This time she saw the movement in time. Her head snapped around and there he was. Standing on the other side of the car, red eyes in the darkness, a low growl filling the air.

Lyka stumbled backwards, shock written on her face. Things happened fast then. Statler pulled her away and within a moment, Deucalion was attacking. Not her, she could tell he was very determined not to hurt her but pushed her out of the way by her arm. She lost touch with the ground, stumbled, fell, rolled through the mud, gasping surprised and saw the two other wolves engage the red-eyed Alpha in battle. Liam was caught by claws dragged across his face, the young man flew around, then dropped face first in the mud. Lyka saw Waldorf run out towards them, into the car before anything else. The engine was howling and he hit the gas. Deucalion was caught in the headlights, surprised for a moment before the car hit him, sent him flying over the car. Waldorf hit the brakes, kicked open the door.

"Get in!" he yelled. Lyka was numb, unable to react. She felt herself being pulled to her feet by Statler and dragged into the car. She saw Deucalion move, slowly, clearly he had been taken by surprise by Waldorf's determination. Liam on the other hand wasn't moving.

"We have to help Liam! We have-"

"We can't!" Waldorf declared and before they could protest any further, he had left the motel and was back on the motorway. Lyka was looking back, couldn't see anything through the darkness of the night and the rain and eventually she sat down facing forward, her face buried in her hands. Statler had his arm around her shoulders and Waldorf kept looking back at her through the rear-view mirror. "I'm sorry, cupcake. I really am. But we can't go back for him."

She shook her head violently.

"Shut up!" she yelled. Waldorf fell silent. She continued in a much smaller voice before she was half crying and half screaming again. "Shut up... this is not how it's supposed to be... Everyone said it would get worse before it got better... but it's _not getting better_! It just _keeps getting worse_! I... it doesn't stop hurting, I think I'm going insane! I can't breathe... I... I can't... I... How am I supposed to... what am I supposed to... what am I supposed to tell my _CHILD_ when it asks me why we're always running? What if they ask me about their father? What am I supposed to tell them?!"

None of them responded and she was sure she was hyperventilating, her lungs unable to process the oxygen she was trying to force into them. Waldorf watched her carefully, hardly focusing on the street. She had finally said it. Her child. She had admitted it, she was facing the reality and he hoped that would help, hoped it would let her heal.

"Do you... want to terminate?" he asked after she had calmed down just a little. He knew it wasn't the most sensitive question to ask but it was something she would have to think about sooner or later. Surprisingly, it took her not even a second to shake her head.

"No, of course not... of course not... I just... I need a place to belong, Waldorf. I need a place for me and for this child to belong and not... I can't be scared for the rest of my life..."

He silently nodded. He really hoped the Hale's would have that place for them. They couldn't keep running, they all knew that.

"Try to get some sleep. We'll figure it out."

It wasn't a promise, she heard that. But it was the closest Waldorf could give to a promise right now. She nodded quietly, wiped the tears from her eyes and then leaned against Statler's shoulder, closed her eyes, hoping to get some sleep.

* * *

He was blinking. His face was in pain and there was mud and blood in his eyes. Liam rolled to his back, let the rain wash over his sore skin. There was a shadow nearby and after a moment he saw... red eyes glowing in the darkness. A weak smirk appeared on his lips and moving these muscles was painful. He wondered what he looked like. Face mutilated. But he could feel the healing set in. Slow, impossibly slow, so slow it was actually almost more painful than the wound itself.

"At least finish what you started, Duke..." he mumbled. The shadow moved closer. Liam saw claws drawn out.

"Where are they going? Where is he taking her?" the Alpha asked, his voice a growl. He wasn't even properly human anymore, Liam could tell. Still, he smirked.

"I'm not telling you. I won't let you kill them... So _come on_! Finish it!"

Deucalion leaned closer and... in a gesture that was almost gentle brushed the wet, dirty hair from the younger wolf's face. He didn't speak. Liam waited for the strike, waited for the pain, for death. But nothing happened. He opened his eyes and saw the Alpha had turned away. Slowly, he sat up, confused.

"Stay out of my way. Stay away from them. Stay away from her," the Alpha ordered. And then he was gone. Liam stayed behind, alone, wounded, confused. Truly lost. Because it meant there was no one left. Deucalion was gone, so were Lyka, Waldorf and Statler. What little he had left of a pack was gone. But...

Why hadn't he killed him? Why show mercy now?

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Sorry again about the delay. I moved and now it was my first weekend in the new place so I took a bit to finish this chapter. It's not my best, I know, but I need to get back into it after the long pause. From now on, I will most likely update every Sunday because I don't think I'll have time to write during the week. But you will get regular updates, I promise.

Thank you all for the patience!


	26. Home

**Home**

They arrived in Beacon Hills in a rainy night. The town looked... different from what Lyka remembered. People stayed off the streets and alone on their way through town and up into the forests, they passed two police cars rushing to what seemed to be a crime scene. They didn't know for certain what was going on but they had their theories about it.

The town was at war. Not a war the ordinary humans were involved in, Lyka assumed. The police just found the bodies but who put them there, no one knew. The war between Hunters and Werewolves was a quiet one, but bloody no less.

When they reached the Hale house, hidden in the woods, most windows were lit and Lyka could see the silhouette of Talia with a glass of wine in the living room window. When she saw the car drive up, a worried frown appeared on her face. Was this it? Had the hunters finally decided to attack them directly? It was not until Talia recognised Waldorf and Lyka that she relaxed and put down her glass. She went to open the door for the three that had arrived, was mainly looking for Deucalion though. Who wasn't with them.

When Lyka looked up she saw the worried frown on Talia's face.

"What happened?" Talia asked. She knew something was wrong. Knew if they showed up here, just the three of them, without Deucalion, something had gone terribly, _terribly_ wrong. Had the hunters gotten to them as well? "Where's Deucalion? Where's the rest of your pack?"

"There is no rest of our pack," Waldorf replied, when Lyka couldn't. Talia shook her head irritated.

"I... what?"

Talia was confused. Staring at Waldorf in disbelief. What did he mean there was no 'rest of the pack'? Her attention focused on Lyka. "What happened to you? Where's Deucalion?"

"He killed them," Lyka whispered. "He... killed them all..."

Talia froze. Just for a moment, just so very brief, before she fully understood the words. She closed her eyes, had to take a deep breath before she could focus.

What had she done? How could she let that happen? She knew it could not technically be her fault but... but oh she felt guilty for it. Because somehow she had seen this coming. She had been there when he had killed Marco and she should have known better. Especially with all Waldorf's warnings. She should have known. But she hadn't believed it, she had refused to believe Deucalion capable of something like this. She had sent him away, hoping time and distance would make things better but it had made it worse. She recalled their last conversation. The sound of his voice then, broken, bitter, cold. She had been worried after that, had tried to reach him again but couldn't and she had somehow known. She didn't want to believe it then, didn't want to believe that something so terrible could have happened on the other side of the country. But here they were and they were all that was left.

"Talia, we need a place to stay. We..." Waldorf began and Talia nodded instantly.

"Of course. Come in, we'll find room for you. Laura!"

A door opened upstairs and in quick, elegant steps, Laura Hale joined them downstairs. Sometimes, Lyka just forgot how gorgeous Laura was but she usually did a very good job reminding people of that whenever she walked into a room. her natural grace and authority so similar to her mother. "Laura, take Lyka upstairs with you. You won't mind sharing a room for a few days, until we find a different solution?"

"Of course not. Lyka."

Laura placed an arm around Lyka's shoulders and that felt strangely soothing, strangely familiar. A bit like it would feel if Liv were still here. It was like the born wolf could sense how disturbed she was and did her very best to help her. Lyka was led away upstairs and Waldorf watched her before he turned to Talia.

"She's pregnant."

"I know, I heard the heartbeat. I'd say about... seven weeks?" Talia inquired. Waldorf nodded.

"About, yes. It's Deucalions..."

Talia nodded. She had figured as much. But with the news, that meant...

"He'll be coming for her..." she whispered.

"We've been running from him since Boston."

Talia took the arm of the older wolf and nodded towards the living room. She didn't want to have this conversation in the hallway, not with her children right upstairs. She didn't want little Cora to hear this, didn't want the girl to know her favourite uncle Duke had turned into a monster. She closed the living room door behind them and watched as Waldorf sat down.

The old wolf looked tired. The rings under his eyes were deep and shadowed, he looked thin, exhausted, haunted. Statler didn't look any better. He looked like an addict in the middle of withdrawal. Clearly the two of them had put all their effort into making the journey here as comfortable as possible for Lyka, neglecting their own health in the process.

"Are you two alright? You look like you'll drop dead any minute."

"It's been... a long journey here..." Waldorf replied. Talia nodded and sat down herself.

"What happened. Tell me everything."

And so they did. About the massacre at the warehouse, about Deucalion forcing Lyka's hand in killing her best friend, about him catching up with them outside of Boston and killing Susan. And about the several occasions they had only narrowly escaped him on the way here. They had lost Liam along the way, assumed he was dead as well and really, it was a miracle they were still alive. Talia was quite sure the only reason why Deucalion hadn't slaughtered them was Lyka. That something in him refused to hurt her – but would kill and destroy everyone and everything in his way to her.

Talia listened to them as long as it took to tell of the horrible journey here and when they finished, she sat in silence for a long time, trying to think of an appropriate response. Eventually she gave up. "You are welcome here but you know you can't hide here. Deucalion will know where you're going, he'll come looking here for you. This isn't a permanent solution."

"We know that. But Lyka... she can't keep running like this. Not in her condition. It works now, but give it a few more weeks, maybe months, and she won't be able to keep up. And what kind of a life would this be for a puppy?"

"I know, I know. We'll find a solution, I promise. For now, you are under my protection. You and the unborn child. We'll work it out."

"Thank you. This means a lot," Waldorf calmly admitted. Yes, over the course of the last few weeks he had worried if Lyka would be right in her concerns, if Talia would indeed turn them away when they came to ask for help. But he was relieved to find he had not been wrong about the Hale Alpha. Talia nodded and got up again.

"We have a guest room. It's not much and it's not really comfortable, but for now, it'll have to do. I'll get in touch with Marin and Alan tomorrow first thing in the morning and we'll find you places in town."

"Talia, we've spent the last couple weeks in the car. About now, everything sounds fantastic, even if we had to sleep on your kitchen floor," Statler admitted. Talia laughed.

"It won't come to that."

* * *

Laura's room was probably the girliest room Lyka had seen in a long time. Posters of a boy band she didn't know where hanging on one wall and the shelf was filled with books, mostly romance novels. Everything was neatly ordered and school notes on the desk were written in Laura's very elegant handwriting. It was strange to realise that they were both the same age, with Laura also being a fresher at university, studying biology. She wondered briefly why Laura still lived at home but then realised it was probably because of the pack. They were two very different girls and it took her a moment to realise why that was. But then it dawned on her. Laura was, for all intents and purposes, a Princess. She had been raised as such, the future Alpha of the Hale pack, a born wolf, no doubt she would acquire the ability to shape shift into a real wolf as soon as she would become Alpha. Laura was special. Lyka had never felt special, always like the average girl. That is, until she met Deucalion.

Laura quickly took a pile of her clothes off the small couch, folded them and put them in her huge wardrobe.

"It's small, but-"

Lyka had fallen onto the rather small couch already, before the other girl could even finish her sentence. Laura smiled. "But I guess it's better than the backseat of a car."

"A million times..." Lyka admitted. Laura sat on her own bed, leaning against the wall and wrapping her arms around a pillow and watched the other girl. She tried to smile but Lyka could tell she was worried. "Go ahead. Ask."

"Is everything okay? I didn't... I didn't hear everything you talked about with mother and..."

"Nothing is okay," Lyka admitted, but then looked at the other girl and smiled. "But it will be, someday. Maybe."

"Is this... about Deucalion?"

Lyka couldn't hold back the small gasp, or maybe a sob, she wasn't entirely sure what it was. And it didn't really matter what it was anyways, because only moments later, Laura had leapt across the room to sit on the couch next to her, with an arm around her to comfort her. Like a sister would. Like Liv would. And as much as she appreciated the support Waldorf and Statler had tried to give her over the journey here, _this_ was what she really needed. "It's going to be okay. You know, this is home now. You don't have to run anymore. You're home."

But she wasn't.

* * *

It looked well in the first days in Beacon Hills. It looked like things would work out.

On the first day after their arrival, Waldorf, Statler and Lyka joined Talia in a meeting with Marin Morrell and her brother Alan Deaton. The fact that an Alpha had gone off track and killed his own pack was extremely unsettling and something the two druids would bring before their council. Apparently, Lyka had not known that either, there was such a thing as a druid's council who would convene and decide how to proceed with the threat of a clearly insane Alpha.

Lyka listened to Morrell and Deaton as they discussed how they would proceed and what they assumed the most likely reaction of the council to be. Death. They would have to move to kill Deucalion, before his power increased and he became too powerful to stop. Lyka's stomach clenched together. She felt sick, torn. She... the thought of the druids moving out to kill her mate made her insides twist painfully. He was a monster now, she knew that but... the thought of losing him... it _still_ terrified her. She couldn't help the thought of everything turning out good in the end. Couldn't help but think about the time when everything _had_ been good...

She remembered the late summer days almost two months ago when they had last been in Beacon Hills. The first meeting with the matriarch back then and returning home to their hotel afterwards. With all that had happened, she easily forgot the good things, the wonderful things and now, absentminded as she sat there, a small smile found its way onto her lips, thinking of the good days. She missed him. She missed him so much, she could barely put it in words. And the thought of the druids killing him...

"Lyka..."

She looked up at the sound of Talia's voice. The Alpha looked at her with pain and worry in her eyes. "Lyka, I am sorry, it's terrible to talk about this but you have to believe us... if there is another way, we'll find it."

"I... yes, I... I know..."

It took her until then to realise she was crying. Smiling, but tears silently tickling on her cheek. "I just... I really thought... I thought it would last forever..."

Talia smiled and came closer. Suddenly she felt so much like a mother that it actually scared Lyka for a moment when the woman put an arm around her and brushed away the tears.

"It's alright. I promise you if there is a way to help him, we will. You're not alone in this. This is _my_ fault, Lyka, I know that. I know that with what I did, I pushed him over the edge. I know that _my father's_ actions set all of this in motion and I carry that guilt. I will do everything I can, everything at all possible, to make this better, for you and for him."

Lyka nodded weakly, tried to smile at her. She was grateful for the support. She knew Talia's words were genuine, knew the Hale Alpha didn't want Deucalion to die any more than she did. She wanted him safe just as much as Lyka did. She wanted to believe that everything would get better with Talia's help. She was that kind of woman, wasn't she? Everything was possible as long as Talia Hale believed in it. Maybe there was hope after all, maybe they could make this work. Her gaze met Waldorf and Statler and both were nodding. If they believed it, it was possible, right?

* * *

About two days later, they first heard about it. The Demon Wolf, bringing a storm in his wake.

Then Kali announced herself with said thunderstorm, showing up at the doorstep of the Hale family in the middle of the night with her pack. She was not a woman for formalities, she very literally kicked the door in and moments later, Talia and Hector came out of their bedroom and downstairs.

"What the hell Kali?!" Talia declared, an unknown anger in her voice. Lyka and Laura had left their currently shared room as well.

"There's a battle happening. Ennis and his pack ran into a rabid Alpha," Kali declared and then her gaze wandered up to meet Lyka. She pointed a long, dark painted fingernail at her. "Her Alpha."

"Deucalion," Lyka gasped.

"He's coming for her. And everyone who gets in his way will get ripped to shreds. That includes everyone here. Talia, if you want your pack – your family – to be safe... you need to get rid of her."

"Did you just come here to scare everyone, Kali?" Talia asked coolly, so entirely in control and majestic that Lyka actually felt unworthy of the wolf's presence.

"I just came to warn you. Ennis will not risk his pack and neither will I. We'll let this Demon Wolf know where she is. You can't possibly hope to keep her from him forever."

"You think he will stop raging once he has them? It will only get worse, Kali."

The barefoot Alpha didn't respond, her gaze wandered quietly from Lyka back to Talia and then she turned away, leaving through the door she had just kicked in. Talia sighed when the all-female pack had finally left the premises, quietly shook her head while Hector grumbled to himself in an attempt to put the door back in its place.

"Maybe she's right," he eventually said.

"I am not having this argument now."

"When will you have it, Talia? When Duke is standing on our doorstep, threatening to tear down our home unless we hand her over. You remember the story of the three little piggies and the wolf, right? _He'll huff and he'll puff_..."

"Please, spare me that nonsense, we're _all_ wolves here."

"He's different," Hector insisted.

"He's right."

Talia looked up, interrupted by Lyka's words. She met the gaze of the young woman, no older than her own daughter. And such a heavy burden. The both of them, as they stood up there. Laura, who would be an Alpha someday soon, who would - if things continued as they were - inherit a war she couldn't possibly end on her own. Lyka, to who's very existence all their fates were now bound. Of course they knew. Hector was right, Kali was right. As long as Lyka was here, none of them were safe. Lyka slowly shook her head. "He won't stop. He'll keep hunting me, and everyone who helps me is in danger."

"I will not send you away, Lyka. Not like this," Talia declared in a firm voice. By now, Peter, Derek, Waldorf and Statler were up as well and only then did little Cora open her door. Talia instantly moved a few steps up the stair. "Laura, take your sister to bed please."

Laura hesitated, looking at Lyka for a moment as if she was not entirely sure _which_ sister Talia was talking about, but eventually she moved towards Cora, took the young girl in her arms and disappeared in the very pink princess room. Lyka watched them, then turned to Talia.

"I have to leave."

"Lyka..."

"If I stay, I put their lives in danger. Yours, your family, my friends. I can't have that on my conscience, not again. I can't know that you all put your lives at risk for me. You've done enough."

"Lyka, where would we even go?!" Statler protested.

"This is it, Lyka. This is the only place we can go, the only home we have," Waldorf insisted. Lyka smiled.

"Yes, I know. That's why you'll stay."

It took both Omega's about two heartbeats to realise what she was saying and then the both of them broke into wild protest, storming up the stairs towards her.

"You can't do that, Lyka! You can't do this alone, not in your condition, not like this , not with-"

"It's me he wants. If I'm not here he has no reason to stay. This place, everyone here, will be safe."

"What about you? Where will you go?"

"My people," Lyka explained with a shrug. Talia blinked.

"The _nagual_... that... that could actually work... They could provide protection you wouldn't get anywhere else. And you are fully initiated. You brought a heart, you rank high among them, even if you chose not to stay with them," she admitted.

"Woah, back up, you're actually supporting this?! This is suicide!" Statler protested.

"She won't even _reach_ them. He'll hunt her down before she even gets close to _nagual_ territory! That is, _if_ she finds them at all!" Waldorf declared angrily. Not even sure whom he was angry at. Angry at himself for not being able to help this girl, because he knew that when it came right down to it, he couldn't protect anyone. Not her, not himself, no one. If Deucalion wanted them dead, they were dead. Angry at Talia for even _considering_ sending an 18 years old pregnant Omega out on her own with a maniac Alpha hunting her while the _actual_ Werewolf Hunters had declared war on all werewolf-kind all over the nation. _Furious_ at Lyka for being so damn stupid and so damn brave, willing to walk out there on her own with no plan and nowhere to hide, to run for her life from a man who was supposed to protect her and love her and be there for her. And oh so furious at Deucalion, perhaps the worst of them all, for putting them in this mess in the first place.

"I'll find them. They'll find me. I know that."

Talia looked at the girl for a moment, then nodded.

"Wait, you can't actually approve of that!"

"I don't. But it is her choice. Just... Laura!"

Talia had quickly walked up the stairs and shot past Lyka into her eldest daughter's room, where Laura met her a moment later after quietly closing Cora's bedroom door again. Talia was raiding Laura's closet.

"Mom... what are you doing?"

"If Lyka tries to run, we'll need to buy her time. And maybe, _just maybe,_ some of your clothes can mask her scent. It's a long shot but it will at least confuse him a little, give her time to get a head start. And while you run... I'll try to talk to him."

"He'll hurt you," Lyka said in a small, fragile voice. Talia smiled.

"He won't. I have a strong pack to back me up and I have no intention of fighting him. I just want to talk. Buy you time. Here, put that on."

Talia handed the young woman a pair of her daughters jeans and a pullover that was a bit too long for Lyka, almost like a dress, mainly because Laura was taller than her. But the scent of the other wolf was strong on it and since she had slept in Laura's room for the past days, Lyka didn't even smell like herself anymore anyways. She tied her hair back with a band Laura gave her and put on a warm coat that also belonged to Laura, not even her shoes were her own. When she returned into the hallway, Waldorf and Statler were waiting for her, both bitterly worried.

"I don't like this. Not one bit," Waldorf declared while Talia was on her way downstairs, taking her own coat. Hector had already changed and was calling the pack together. They had no time to waste. By the door, she looked back at the two Omega's and the girl, saying their farewells. Lyka hugged Waldorf for a long time, her dearest of friends, the one who had supported her, through it all. He kissed her hair once.

"Be careful, cupcake. Be safe. Tell this kid about Uncle Waldorf, will ya?"

"I will. I promise I will. This child will grow up hearing the heroic tales of Waldorf!"

She wasn't crying. Held it together even though she knew this might well be the last time she saw them. She hugged Statler just as long although they didn't speak. Then she hugged Laura quickly before she rushed down the stairs to meet Talia outside the house. Where their paths diverged. Talia didn't speak, just watched and nodded as the girl set out to leave. Lyka nodded back and then she disappeared between the trees, into the darkness. She ran.

Had Lyka known it would be the last time she'd see Talia Hale, she would have said a proper farewell.

* * *

When Talia, Hector, Laura and the rest of the Hale pack reached the edge of town, they found him without much difficulty. As if he was waiting for them. Deucalion didn't really look like himself anymore. There was something utterly mad about him but while Waldorf and the others had described him as rabid, maniacal, crazed, all Talia saw now was... something disturbingly calm.

He seemed so completely at ease, so quiet, so unfazed that she was actually terrified of him. With what he had done, he _should_ be mad, he _should_ be visibly destroyed, his soul torn apart. But he didn't look the part. He had his hands buried in the pockets of his dark coat and she had to admit that he looked... somewhat older than she remembered him. As if the events of the recent past had drained him, had taken at least ten good years from him. But there was something regal about him. He was more than he had been before and that worried her. This power he had obtained by killing his own... it would eventually destroy him, she knew that. And the way she knew him, he was aware of that. He was aware that he was falling apart from the inside, that he existed on borrowed time.

"Deucalion. I did not expect you to return here so soon," she eventually said.

"You know why I am here, Talia. No need to complicate things. I don't want to harm your pack or your precious alliance. I don't want to get involved in your war against the Hunters. I want my mate. I know she's with your people. Bring her to me and no one gets hurt."

"She's not here, Deucalion."

There was a moment's pause before he bared his teeth.

"Don't LIE TO ME!" his voice roared. And not just his voice. Thunder came rolling in, lighting cracking behind him dramatically, heavy winds blowing cold rain towards them. His eyes were burning behind his shades. But Talia stayed calm.

"I am not here to fight you, Deucalion. Lyka is not here. She was here, but she left. Because she knew you would come for her, because she knew you would not leave us alone as long as she was here."

"Don't lie, Talia. You're hiding her from me, trying to keep her away."

His voice was calm again but he made it very clear that he was the most powerful thing out there. Everyone here knew.

"Deucalion... she's _terrified_ of you. So terrified that she'd rather run for the rest of her life than face you. Let her go. Let her find a home somewhere, forget about all of this. You need to find yourself again before you can think of her. You were a man of vision once, don't lose that. Be a man she can love, not one she has to fear."

"Stop talking. Tell me where she went."

"I don't know where she went," Talia lied and was entirely focused on masking the physical signs of that lie. Tried to keep her heartbeat as steady as possible. It wasn't per se a lie, was it? She knew Lyka wanted to find the _nagual_, but where exactly that would take her, she didn't know. With all the nomadic tribes, she could end up God knows where. "Please Deucalion... you've done horrible, horrible things. You've hurt her, these wounds need time to heal. If they will heal at all. By hunting her, you'll only make it worse. I beg of you if you really love her, if you really want her to come back to you... give her time. Redeem yourself. Then think of finding her."

"Talia... oh Talia, you know so little... I have nothing to redeem myself for. They betrayed me. They turned against me. They were all weak. I did what I had to do to survive in a world where everyone turns on me."

"We didn't turn on you, Deucalion. You turned on yourself."

He growled and instantly, her pack was prepared to strike. Teeth and claws bared. But she held them back with just a simple gesture of her hand. "We're not here to fight. The one you seek is not here, you have no reason to stay. If you won't listen to me, if you won't see sense, then there is no place for you here anymore, Deucalion. It hurts me, but I have to ask you to leave... you are no longer welcome in Beacon Hills if you follow this path you have chosen."

He didn't move for a long time, the tension impossibly thick. His eyes were glowing brightly and he saw the wolves before him in shades of black and red. He saw Talia draw in a deep breath, her frame seemed to grow and her eyes turned deep, intense red. She would transform and she would attack if he forced her hand. She didn't want to, but she wouldn't hesitate either. And yes, he was powerful. But she was the Queen. So eventually, he bowed, in an almost mocking fashion.

"As you command. But rest assured... I _will_ find her."

He turned away slowly and left. It took the storm several hours after that to pass and only when it did was Talia absolutely sure that Deucalion was gone for good. And so was Lyka.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_This chapter is dedicated to my reader ProcioneCastoro for their Birthday today :) _

_Next Sunday, next chapter! So stay tuned, keep commenting and messaging and await the return of the_ nagual!


	27. Braeden

**Braeden**

Somewhere along the 101, between King City and San Miguel, Mandy the waitress was working in a diner by the road. People passing through where usually truckers, the occasional tourist, the rest were regulars from the area.

Mandy the waitress had worked in this diner for nearly 15 years, had seen many come and go and some never leave. Crazy Ernie was always sitting at his table. Funny old man he was, with his frizzy hair, living in a trailer, convinced the government was infiltrated by aliens. Or old Lu, who had the habit of exorcising ghosts and demons from strangers when they arrived here. They were a strange set of characters out here but Mandy wouldn't want them any other way. They stuck together, they were family.

Mandy the waitress was 46 years old now; a scrawny woman with long blonde hair usually tied in a messy bun. She smoked a lot and it showed on her teeth and nails, but out here, no one really cared what she looked like because she had a heart of gold and that was what mattered in the end.

It was one of those days at the diner. A dry day, but the first shadows of a storm rolling in from the distance. The diner wasn't full. Three truckers, Crazy Ernie, a family of tourists from Germany, doing a tour along the West Coast. The news were on, mainly because there was no sports on right now. Mandy watched from behind the counter, seeing reports of several areas along the road struck by bad storms, two road houses burned down within the last month alone. No one was killed, luckily, just a few injuries and the shock, but everyone was on edge about it. _Strange coincidences_, Mandy called them. _Aliens_, Crazy Ernie said.

She went to take the order from the German family. The man did the talking, the woman was looking at the roadmaps to plot their next stop on their way to L.A. Their two kids were sitting by their side. The boy, maybe 11 years old, was playing with a handheld. he was a bit chubby, but well dressed. The girl, maybe 14, was pretty, with long, dark blonde hair, freckles, glasses on her little nose.

"What can I get'cha guys?" Mandy asked with a happy smile.

"Uhm... we want four coke. Um... fries for the kids, the chicken salad for my wife... and I become the house hamburger, please?"

Mandy smiled and took note, ignoring the little mistakes he made. The man was skinny, blond and was wearing glasses as well, like his daughter.

"Coming right up, darling."

She saw him blush a little, his wife chuckling overly amused at his nervousness. The wife was pretty. Long dark hair, big green eyes, looked a bit like a movie star.

"So, where you guys coming from?" Mandy asked from across the counter.

"Aachen. That's in West Germany," the husband replied.

"Cool. Hey, you kids wanna watch some shows?" Mandy asked, looking at the boy and girl. The boy turned to his older sister.

"Was hat sie gesagt?"

"Sie hat gefragt ob wir Fernseh gucken wollen," the girl replied, rolling her eyes, clearly annoyed - but that was what teenagers were supposed to be. Then she turned to Mandy. "That would be great!"

"Great, let's see what's on."

While they waited for the food, Mandy the waitress let the two kids go through channel after channel. Mostly it was talk shows or reality TV, too early in the day for quality entertainment really. She almost didn't notice the door open to let in another customer but eventually, she turned towards the new arrival.

There was immediately something she thought odd about the girl who had walked in. A black girl in rather messy clothes, her dark hair in a chaotic bun, she looked tired, shadows under her eyes, dirt on her shoes from what seemed like a long walk. But despite it all, there was something very beautiful about her, like she could be breathtaking if she were not so exhausted. And she was obviously pregnant. No doubt a runaway. Torn from her home, maybe kicked out because of the pregnancy? Mandy didn't know her story but she knew there was one.

The girl walked to a lonely table in a corner, sat down with her eyes on the door and the large window front looking out over the road where she could see the clouds in the distance. Mandy the waitress left the German family, took a menu and was by the girl's side before any of the truckers could get any ideas.

"Hey sweetheart, are you alright? You look like you're going through some trouble," she said. The girl looked up startled and for a moment there, Mandy could have sworn she had bright blue eyes. But when she looked closer, they were actually dark brown. Strange. It took the girl a moment to smile a weak smile.

"I am fine, thanks for asking."

"Okay... What can I get you?"

"Um..." the girl began digging in her pockets for money, then placed a handful of bills and coins on the table, quickly counted it, "A coffee?"

"Honey, you need something solid."

"I don't have money."

Mandy the waitress handed her the money back and shook her head.

"I'll cover you. Don't worry, sweetie, you won't have to go hungry here."

Mandy rushed to the kitchen, telling the chef to prepare a double burger, extra fries and salad and a sundae for desert. The girl needed it. When she came back out of the kitchen, she saw the girl had leaned back in her chair, had her eyes closed, one hand on her lips, the other on her belly. But when she heard the waitress approach, she opened her eyes again. "When was the last time you slept? In a bed I mean."

The girl shook her head and smiled.

"I'm fine. Really."

"Well, I've got a huge warm meal for you right here and we have an inn upstairs, so if you want to get some sleep, you are very welcome to."

"You don't want that. You don't want me here, trust me," the girl replied with a smile, shaking her head. She then picked a fry from her plate; hesitantly put it in her mouth. Mandy the waitress saw how hungry the girl was, how relieved she looked when she finally could eat. And then she just watched the girl eat. Devour really. It was a miracle it took her more than five minutes to make the entire meal disappear - burger and salad and fries and all. If she ate any faster, she'd have to absorb the food through her skin instead of chewing it. The unhealthy gray tint of her skin made way for a much healthier glow immediately. Now she really looked the part, the beautiful thing she was. Mandy the waitress sat down.

"What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Ly... Braeden. My name's Braeden."

Mandy was quite sure that was a lie. But she knew the girl would tell her real name when she wanted to trust and she was just... not there yet.

"Are you running from someone, Braeden? The cops? The family? Because we won't tell anyone if you don't want to be found. You can relax, you can rest here, really."

The girl laughed weakly. A strange reaction but Mandy just knew there was a lot more to this girl than just a simple little runaway. She looked... hunted.

"I'm alright, thanks. I am looking for my... people."

There was thunder somewhere in the distance, the light flickering.

"We've been having electricity problems for days now," Mandy the waitress commented. "And two diners down the road burned down."

"I'm tellin' you Mandy, it's them aliens!" Crazy Ernie called over from his regular table. Mandy rolled her eyes and got up again.

"Don't pay attention to Crazy Ernie, he has all sorts of conspiracy theories. Couple loose screws if you ask me, but he's alright."

Braeden sighed and shook her head. She finished her sundae quickly and got up.

"It's not aliens. It's probably worse."

She put her jacket back on, scarf wrapped around her neck to cover half her face. Mandy watched her worried. Was she leaving again so soon? Barely rested?

"Honey, you have not only yourself to look after," she said, making the girl freeze to the spot. She placed her hands on her belly again, then she turned towards Mandy.

"There will be a man coming here soon. A blind man. Maybe today, maybe tomorrow. He'll be asking for me. _Don't_ try to lie to him. Tell him everything you know, everything we talked about. Tell him where I went. Please, don't try to lie; you don't have to protect me. He'll know when you lie."

And with these strange words, and an unnamed fear so visible in her eyes, the girl left the diner. Mandy the waitress stayed behind with worry in her eyes. Looking for her people? Apparently running from someone? An abusive boyfriend? Some kind of criminal? She didn't know. But those were the kind of encounters in the diner she never forgot.

* * *

He came with the storm.

It was the same day, just some hours later, night had already fallen and it had started to rain. Wind was shaking the diner and the power was having ups and downs again. Mandy the waitress was cleaning up tables, only the chef and Crazy Ernie were still in and they were playing blues from the jukebox. Over the course of the day, her gaze had often wandered to the empty spot where the girl had been sitting before. That strange girl with these strange last words.

When the door opened this time, Mandy barely looked up. The music from the jukebox stumbled, as if it was irritated by the new presence.

"We're closed, sorry fella," she said. The door fell shut and she heard footsteps, making her look up. There was a man standing in the diner. Long, dark coat, dark jeans, very nice shoes. His dark blond hair looked windswept, wet strands hanging in his face. He was handsome. Mandy guessed he was in his early thirties? He was wearing dark aviators and carried a walking stick. A blind man. Instantly she remembered the words of the girl. _There will be a man coming here soon. A blind man_. And here he was. Mandy squared her shoulders. "I said we're closed."

"I am looking for someone," the man responded. He did not seem to care at all that the diner was closed. He spoke strangely calm, very polite even, and his voice was the most beautiful thing Mandy had ever heard. The kind of voice you wanted to trust, but there was... something about it. Something menacing. How could she tell this man where the girl had gone? God only knew what he would do to her!

"I can see how that would be problematic for you," Mandy the waitress replied coolly. The man smirked a little but she continued. "There's no one here. Just me, our chef, and Ernie over there."

"I am looking for a girl. 18 years old, she would strike you as beautiful."

"Lot of beautiful people pass through here."

He stretched his neck a little and took off his glasses. His eyes, that had been hidden so far, were of a pale, silvered blue, they seemed soft, gentle, like his voice, but had this faint glimmer of threat to them.

"Don't lie to me. You can try but you won't succeed. I'd think she warned you about that? So just... tell me where she went and I'll be on my merry way."

"She obviously doesn't want you to find her. So why don't you just let it go, buddy?" the chef asked.

"I'm afraid I can't do that. Now, this is how it will go: You tell me where she went, tell me everything she said to you, and I leave this pathetic little dump. Or you keep lying and I will tear this place apart brick by brick and burn the pieces when I'm done. Your choice."

There was a moment of terrible silence and they tried to assess if he meant it or not. Then Crazy Ernie got to his feet very slowly, pointing at the blind stranger.

"You. You're one of them. You bring the storm. You burned down all these places."

"I did. And you can now choose if you want to be next on the news or if you'll just tell me where the girl went."

Silence, again. The chef turned towards Mandy the waitress.

"Mandy..."

She didn't want to. She also couldn't quite believe his words. But the fear in the voice of the girl had been real.

"Braeden."

The blind man turned towards her. "She said her name was Braeden and she was looking for her people. I don't know where she went from here. She did not say anything else."

The blind man was quiet for a long time, his blind eyes fixed on Mandy the waitress. Then he smiled.

"I appreciate the honesty. You made the right choice today."

"Please don't hurt her!" Mandy called when the blind man turned to leave and he stopped in the door, turned towards her with a smile.

"I have no intention of hurting her. Never."

And he was out of the door.

Mandy the waitress stayed behind, wondering what she had witnessed there today and came to the conclusion that it was the unhappy ending of a fairy tale.

* * *

Lyka thought about the diner a lot in the days to follow. The kindness of strangers. Mandy the waitress who had given her food and even offered shelter to a complete stranger, a girl with obvious troubles. For all she knew, she could have been a crack whore on the run from her dealer or something equally problematic. But she had been kind and that was so rare it made Lyka sad just to think about it. She had not heard any news, she hoped the diner was alright, hoped the people were safe. She had rarely looked back during the past weeks because she knew a trail of destruction was following her. Wherever she was, once he got there, he destroyed. So she had stopped looking back. She couldn't have more of it on her conscience.

When she found them it was not as she had expected. It was in a night she was wandering aimlessly, when she caught their scent. Wolves. But different from the ones she knew. It was nearly a full moon, they were howling, celebrating and as she came closer she saw their bonfires.

Mostly men with their upper bodies covered in elaborate tattoos, drinking sharp, burning liquor, sitting by the fire, celebrating the day of the moon as they called it. Far away from any civilisation, no one nearby who could accidentally find them except her.

When they caught her scent, their laughter stopped and they were prepared to attack, well aware that she could be a threat. But when they realised she was alone, they all relaxed.

"Who goes there?" one called over to her. She came closer, stepping into the light. She recognised no one, it had to be a different pack, but they were _nagual_, she could tell by their tattoos.

"My name is Lyka McCall. I'm looking for the pack of Donovan McCall."

Three of the men quickly exchanged in Spanish, Lyka had trouble following what they said, but then one of them stepped forward.

"You're the one who runs with the _Demon Wolf_?"

So word had spread. She slowly shook her head.

"Not anymore."

"He's looking for you. We don't want to get on his bad side."

"Just take me to my grandfather, please. Let him send me away face to face."

The men exchanged looks, then nodded.

"We'll take you there tomorrow. Drink?"

"Thanks. But I can't."

She looked down at her ever-growing belly. It had been a while now, she wasn't even sure how far along she was, and she could actually feel the child kick. It was active, seemed excited to be alive, couldn't wait to see the world out here. What a disappointment it would be...

The wolves let her sit down by the fire with them, wrapped her in a blanket and gave her food – almost raw meat and freshly made bread. One was on the phone already; Lyka could hardly believe he even had a signal out here. He was talking to McCall, she heard him say his name twice.

What had she been thinking? How could she have been so foolish to believe they would welcome her? She had made sure they wouldn't like her herself, hadn't she? Actively choosing not to be part of their pack, following Deucalion instead. She couldn't expect them to take her back after that. What a fool she had been to come here. They were not her family, no matter how hard she tried to tell herself they were. Her family was gone. Her pack had been her family. Liv had been her family. Waldorf and Statler. Talia and Laura. But she'd never see them again. She had no one. The _nagual_ were strangers who probably didn't even want anything to do with her. And even if they did... could she really just start a new life? Could she really just decide to forget what had happened in the past months and... be someone else? She had taken to call herself just Braeden among strangers, lying to herself about who she was. But in the end... in the end she was alone. In the end she – and that child – had no one left. She couldn't forget that. She would never again give in to that false sense of safety she had allowed herself to feel with the pack, or with the Hale's. She was alone.

She looked up when the wolf who had spoken on the phone approached her, sat down next to her.

"I talked to Donovan. He'll meet us halfway tomorrow. He's glad to hear you're fine and says as long as you wish, you will be safe with us. The _Demon Wolf_ will not get you."

She looked at the young man perplexed. That was really not the response she had expected. She had expected Donovan McCall to send her packing the moment he heard her name. She should feel relieved but was too tired and to wary of the thought. False safety. Never again.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Not much to say today other than I enjoyed this slightly different chapter. It feels a bit like a one-shot, doesn't it? And I liked that. I liked playing with these new characters - Mandy and Ernie especially, so those two might have a reappearance some time later down the road.

And have you guys seen that Gideon Emery has a new episode in 3B listed on IMDB? Our favourite Demon Wolf returns, yeay! I am so happy about this! Now I can't wait for the next part of the season to start!

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and you will see how it continues next week. I can already tell you: next week will be the first time Lyka and Deucalion meet face to face and speak since the events, so we have that to look forward to. It will be emotional!

Leave comments or message me ^^


	28. Nagual

**Nagual**

_She sat in the bus, half asleep after a day in the library and lectures. She was even still wearing the clothes from the day before. A shirt, jeans, sneakers, her hair was still a bit messy, the way it looked when she didn't have her own product to tame it. She was half leaning against the bus window, dozing off time and again and it was not until the driver announced the stop that she realised she was on the completely wrong bus. This bus wasn't going to her dorm. It was stopping at Deucalion's building. And right now!_

_Intuitively, she grabbed her bag, her jacket and rushed to jump off the bus. It was a busy evening and she wasn't even sure he would be home, but she went to his building anyways. Only to be almost instantly stopped by the porter. _

_"Business?"_

_"Oh, come on, I was here just yesterday, you should remember me. I'm... I'm with Deucalion."_

_The man looked around._

_"I don't see Mr. Deucalion anywhere."_

_"Then perhaps you should have your eyes checked."_

_Lyka sighed relieved when she heard the voice she knew so well and loved so dearly. When she turned around she saw him walk closer, well dressed as always, using his cane to move easily and his lips described a soft smile because he knew she was there. Of course he knew. He had picked up her scent half a block away. He stepped closer, reaching out a hand for her and found her shoulder. He leaned closer, brushed his lips over her temple. "Let's go upstairs," he suggested in little more than a whisper. She nodded with a blushing smile when he led her with him, away from the sceptical porter. They held it together pretty well until the elevator doors closed behind them and then she burst into laughter. _

_"Oh I wish you could have seen his face!" she declared. He didn't respond, just smiled. He stepped closer, toe to toe, his hand caressing her cheek as he leaned down to kiss her. His lips lingered on hers long, and quietly so and she could feel his smile against her kiss. When the elevator reached their destination, he leaned down, picked her off the floor and carried her with him into his home. She was laughing between kisses, her hands in his hair. He carried her to the bedroom, with no distraction on the way._

* * *

She woke like someone had fired a gunshot next to her ear. Gasping, disoriented, confused. Gone the lovely dream world she had felt so safe and comfortable in. Pleasantly remembering the very day after that first night they had spent together.

_Beep. _

Her mouth was very dry and she felt strangely light-headed. Her mind wandered... where was she? How had she gotten here? She distantly remembered meeting with Donovan and Santiago...

_Beep._

They had taken her in with open arms and she still didn't quite trust the situation. It had been weeks. Months? It was a miracle Deucalion hadn't found her yet. She believed it had something to do with the amulet the old medicine woman had given her upon arrival. She had said it would cloak her from demons – or whatever it was they thought Deucalion was. She had been sceptical, but it seemed to work, and-

_Beep._

What the hell was up with that beeping?! She turned her head to find the source of the steady, annoying sound only to stare at a heart monitor. Connected to her. She looked around irritated. Hospital? Or... some kind of clinic, this place seemed too small for a hospital. Yeah... there were a lot of questions unanswered. She tried to sit up, flinched. Her abdomen was hurting and she immediately pulled the covers off. Flat. She was flat... where the _HELL_ was her child?! What the hell had happened, where was she, where was her child, where were the other wolves, what-

A door was opened and a woman in a nurses dress walked in, behind her a young man was looking in. She remembered him. Javier, the alpha of the pack she had first run into... quite a while back. He looked worried, but slightly relieved.

"Ah, you're awake," the nurse declared cheerful.

"My... my child..."

Lyka's voice broke. When had she used it last?

"Is fine. Healthy and looking great really. I'll bring her here in a minute; just let me check you first."

"I'll get her," Javier declared from by the door and then he rushed away.

_Her._ Lyka felt herself collapse a little right there. _Her_. Her _daughter._ She felt herself shrink into the pillow, felt everything she was fall away, spiralling into chaos. She was a mother. And she didn't know her child. Didn't even remember giving birth to it. To _her._

"What... what happened...?"

"You went into early labour. We encountered some... complications. You lost a lot of blood and we had to put you under while we waited for your body to heal itself. You were out for about four days."

Lyka sighed, closed her eyes for a moment. Four days. Days. All the terrible things that could have happened in four days…

None of which mattered when she heard Javier enter the room. Her eyes flew open and there she was. The girl. Her daughter. Javier carried the tiny human in his arms carefully, like she was made of glass. Which, Lyka immediately knew, she wasn't. This girl was a Warrior Princess! A preterm birth, but she was so, so very strong. She stared at the child in awe and admittedly terrified. Because now it was real. It wasn't just some… vague concept of a possible child anymore, it was a real, flesh and blood life she was responsible for. Javier smiled.

"She's a fighter, like her Mom."

And before Lyka could protest because she was not prepared for it at all, he had placed the bundle of life in her arms. Lyka stared at her, unable to really say or do anything. The child was wiggling in her arms and still had this scent of new-born children to her, covered with baby powder, a sweet scent. She was still a bit wrinkly and looked a bit squished, but her cheeks were a healthy colour and once she got a hold of Lyka's hand, she squeezed and didn't let go of her shaking finger. Lyka couldn't really breath. The girl in her arms had light brown, slightly olive skin, a short tuff of black curls on her little head. She had her mother's lips and strong nose. But her eyes... her eyes were grey. It might be that it would still change, she knew that it sometimes happened – children born with blue eyes that turned darker over time. But right now, these curious little eyes looking up at her were Deucalion's eyes.

She should cry, almost wanted to. But she couldn't. Because the girl was perfect in every way and crying would be inappropriate, so she laughed instead. The new beginning she had almost given up on? There it was. Lying in her arms. The girl kicked her a little and started to grouch, beginning to cry a little and Lyka pulled her closer, pressed her lips to the little girls forehead with a smile.

"You have to give her a name though. We've been calling her puppy for the past few days, you wouldn't want that to stick" Javier suggested.

"She can still name her later, let her recover first!" the nurse protested.

"Olivia."

Lyka's immediate response silenced the two bickering wolves. "Olivia Susan McCall."

Named after the two women who gave their lives so she could live. She whispered the name to the child, holding her close and just the presence of her mother, that physical proximity, was enough to calm her down. Like she knew, somehow, that Lyka was her mother, the woman who had given life to her. Javier smiled.

"She missed you. Nothing like a mother to calm a pup."

"I'm never giving her back," Lyka admitted in a whisper. Because she was already entirely in love with the girl in her arms.

"We'll leave you two alone. I'll be right outside if you need anything, just call," the nurse said and pushed Javier to the door. Then she turned towards the young mother and child. "Olivia is a lovely name."

"Yes, it is."

* * *

The days, yes weeks after that went surprisingly well. Donovan and Santiago came by several times, visiting Lyka and the newest addition to the McCall family and eventually, they were allowed to leave the hospital.

The _nagual_ were living in a small, secluded village just across the Mexican border, not on any map. A little, secret community of actual communists, independent of any stately laws. They had created their own little pocket society, their own trade, agriculture, a private little infrastructure of wolves and their families in the middle of nowhere. Everyone owned everything, there was no 'property' per se. And so, even the child was part of the community, everyone equally taking care of the puppy. The community was wonderful. A bit archaic, yes, but Lyka's arrival was beginning to change that, she could tell. As only female wolf to have passed the initiation, she was allowed to attend meetings of the council and her voice was a heavy one because of the simple fact that she had delivered a heart – even if she had not delivered it to any of them, the achievement still counted. She was important. And by being in the council she had the opportunity to represent the women of the nagual.

Contrary to what she had believed from Talia's lessons, there _were_ female wolves among the _nagual._ The problem was, they had no right to go through the initiation and had never questioned that right until Lyka had shown up. They had just sort of… been there, accepting the status quo as it had been for centuries. But the fact that a she-wolf had demanded to be initiated changed their way of seeing things. Not all of them actually _wanted_ to be initiated, of course. But those who did were suddenly speaking up, asking Lyka to speak for them in the council and she did. Not only for them but also for her girl. She could feel it. Although it had not yet been a full moon since Olivia was born, Lyka could tell that the girl was a wolf. A born wolf, like Talia, like Laura and her siblings. She was special, and Lyka wanted to make sure that by the time she was old enough she'd have the right to do whatever she wanted with her life. Lyka knew Donovan had his eye on the child, because she would be impossibly great one day. A born wolf, perhaps even a born Alpha, considering who her father was. She wanted to make sure that there was only one person who could decide Olivia's future - and that was Olivia.

Lyka had not expected the _nagual_ to take her in so well. No one judged her, no one questioned her presence, and – most worrisome to her – no one was afraid. They should be, she knew that. Because _he_ was still out there. He was still looking for her and it was a miracle he hadn't found her yet.

But eventually, he did.

One morning when Lyka woke up, the sun was covered by dark clouds and thunder was rolling in the distance. She had seen this happen before, when she had still been running. It made her feel uneasy instantly and when she reached the town square, she wasn't the only one worried. Donovan was surrounded by villagers, exclaiming their worry about the unnatural weather that had literally rolled in over night. And one particularly old woman kept yelling _'El lobo del Diablo!'_ at him, again and again. Donovan, Santiago, Rafael and Javier tried to calm the pack but it didn't work well. Lyka watched them a long time, then wordlessly handed her daughter to one of the women.

"Watch out for her, will you? Do not take her anywhere without me, just… hide her."

"What is happening?" the woman asked confused.

"He's here," Lyka just whispered. She kissed her daughters forehead, lips lingering on the child a bit longer than necessary just to memorize her scent. It was entirely possible this was the last time she would be able to see her. But then she joined the commotion on the square. "Superior."

Donovan looked up and the crowd parted for her.

"Lyka, what are you doing here? Get to your daughter, don't worry about this."

"He's coming for me."

"We have everything under control. If he thinks he can just waltz in here and we'll run away with our tails between our legs, he knows little of the _nagual_. We will not run and we will not surrender one of our own to him and his intimidation. He'll have to do more than command the weather to make _nagual_ betray each other."

"You would do this? For me? After I have turned on you?"

Donovan laughed and put a hand on her shoulder.

"You are family, no? And you are here now. You are one of us, _nagual_ protect their family and you have always been part of our family, even though you were led astray. It happens to the best of us. We're all wolves, but we're also all lost lambs. That is an important thing to learn, pup. Now go, be with your daughter, you will be safe and we'll get you when the storm has passed."

Lyka was almost moved to tears. Almost. She really had no tears left. Instead she shook her head.

"No. Thank you for trying to protect me. But if I am not here he will kill everyone. It's easier… if I am there. Liv will be with the women, she will be safe. But… I need to be there. Maybe if he sees me… maybe he'll come to his senses."

Donovan watched her worried.

"Lyka, he is lost. I know you don't want to hear it, but it is the truth," he began. When she didn't respond, he sighed. "But perhaps, seeing it for yourself will help you accept it."

Lyka nodded a little and her grandfather led her with him and the rest of the council. They were not the only ones anymore. _Nagual_ Alpha's had come from several locations, reporting about the storm and the Demon Wolf bringing it with him. The council had grown by at least four pack representatives and they were all prepared to fight if they needed to. But Lyka… wasn't sure if she would be. She wasn't sure how this would play out for her. What would it feel like to see him again after all this time? His eyes… their daughter's eyes.

Well, she would know soon enough.

* * *

Night came and the council had gathered at the border of their town, awaiting the inevitable. Lyka was behind Donovan and Santiago, hidden, protected, they and a few others built a wall of wolves to keep her away from the Demon who was coming to find her. Still, she was first to know he was there. She caught his scent, felt his presence, immediately. It felt like something was clenching around her heart, made her catch her breath.

And there he was. Walking towards their village as if he had nothing to fear in a town full of wolves. But he _didn't_ have anything to fear, did he? The storm seemed to cease at his arrival, the air suddenly so calm and electrified that the Alpha's around her were beginning to shiver.

Deucalion looked _flawless._ Elegant in a long, dark coat perfectly tailored for him, the collar turned up, dark jeans and shoes, his hair a little windswept and despite the dark, he was wearing his glasses and carried his walking stick, making him look so harmless. But the smirk on his lips suggested otherwise.

"Ah, wayward son, you find your way here at last," Donovan eventually declared. "You know... we would have given you a home, a family. Yet you had to choose bloodshed."

"You did not run in fear I see. Either very brave or very foolish. Or you're just willing to give me what I want without putting up a pointless fight."

"What you want? You speak of her like she is a thing, like she is your property."

"She _IS_ my property!"

The Demon Wolf's roar echoed in the thunder cracking through the sky, making few of the Alpha's flinch back.

"No! She is _not_! She is your MATE! You swore to protect her, care for her, love her. Instead you terrified her, drove her away into a life of fear, running and hiding, pain and death! You don't _deserve_ her!"

But Santiago's anger was silenced by just a hand on his shoulder. The wolf turned towards Lyka, who just shook her head. She made him step aside, walked past him, past Donovan, towards the man who had come for her. The _nagual_ didn't move but she could tell they were ready to do whatever had to be done. Kill, if necessary. She had never felt stronger than with the Alpha's in her back, watching out for her, making sure she was safe.

Deucalion didn't move until she was close enough so he could feel the warmth of her body. He caught her scent, that specific scent he loved so much. He smiled.

"Lyka. You are a difficult woman to find. Destroyed many lives just to hide from me. For no reason at all. I'd never hurt you."

"You'd never hurt me?"

Oh it was wonderful to hear her voice, even though it was filled with pain and faint anger. "Deucalion, you made me kill my best friend."

She looked up, unleashing the blue of her eyes. He had fallen silent. "Look at me, I know you can."

"Lyka..."

"LOOK AT ME!"

He looked up, because it was the first time she had screamed at him, the first time he had heard her voice like this. His eyes were flashing red behind his glasses. And there she was. His Lyka, her eyes – once their soft, golden light – turned to cold, hard blue. "Look at what you did to me. Take a good, long look at what it looks like when you're _not hurting_ _me_. You slaughtered Abby and Paul. My friends. You left Liv to die a horrible death and forced me to put her out of her misery. My BEST FRIEND, Deucalion, my SISTER. She _begged_ me to end her life. You killed Susan, Liam. You killed them all. And you expect me to believe you did that for me?"

"I _did_ that for you!" he countered. She stared at him in utter disbelief. He suddenly stepped closer, both hands on her cheeks. "You have to see that. They were all weak! They would have turned on us. We're stronger without them, I'm stronger. I can protect you, from everything. Hunters, other wolves, nothing out there can get to us. Lyka... you and me... that's all we need..."

His voice got lower, almost a whisper now when he stood closer, brushing his hands over her cheeks, her lips. He had missed her, desperately.

"Deucalion... you broke my heart, you're not who I thought you were. Not anymore. They are right, I _am_ terrified of you. You've chosen a path I can't follow. You lost sight of _everything_ that was good about us."

"You..." he frowned, stepped back. "You don't love me? That's it, isn't it? You're turning against me, like everyone else."

She laughed, a weak, painful laugh, and stepped closer. This time she put her hands on his face, pulled him closer, pressed her lips to his.

"I will _never_ stop loving you. I promised you that and I meant it. But now... now you need to find the right path again, and you need to do that on your own because I don't have the strength to do this, not with everything that has happened. I can't redeem you, Deucalion. You need to do that on your own. You have to let me go. Find me when you're the man I fell in love with again."

The words struck like a knife. Because they were Talia's words. _You need to find yourself again before you can think of her. Be a man she can love, not one she has to fear. _He leaned closer once more, his lips on hers. And then he stepped away. Perhaps he had to hear it from her, had to hear her say it, not others tell him. Was he on the wrong path? No, he still believed he had done everything to make it safe for them, the both of them. She couldn't see it now, maybe she would in due time.

"I will be the best wolf I can be, the strongest Alpha I can be. I will have you back, Lyka."

He took her hand, his thumb brushing over the small tattoo on her wrist, his symbol; he knew exactly where it was.

"I don't need you to be strong. I need you to be _you_."

He didn't respond, just brought her hand to his lips before he let her go. There was no more fear in her scent, she wasn't scared of him and that was a good thing. But she wouldn't leave with him either, he knew that. She had made her choice.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_Not what you expected, ey? Let me tell you, there will be a significant change in the way they are with each other and it will happen soon. I am going to rush a bit because I REALLY want to get to the Hale Fire! But I needed this scene. I needed them both to 'let go' for now, even though they are not really letting go. Not really._

_And muahahahaha Lyka did not mention the kid! Poor Duke has no idea he's a dad_

_*evil laugh*_

_In whichever way Lyka's life or death play out in the end, that revelation will shake him up pretty bad._

_Anyways, sorry for the delay. I had a busy week, was gone all Saturday and on Sunday I was simply too tired to focus on writing... This week will be better. _

_Comment or message me, love the feedback and my loyal readers!_


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